Carpe Noctem
by wolverinacullen
Summary: Seven years after the events of Love Bites, the Devein family has settled into their home in Salem for another summer of rest until Valentine arrives with stunning news and raises more questions than there are answers. Between Fangtell family peril and romance between Draculaura and her old flame, Gory must decide between reclaiming her past or embracing her present while she can.
1. Chapter One

_Carpe Noctem_

_Chapter One_

There was a kind of sweetness to freedom. The ability to self-govern had been instilled in me since childhood, but I had to admit, being able to say I had a college degree marked the sweetest kind of freedom I had ever tasted.

The past six years had been spent back-and-forth to Chicago for college at one of the best schools in the country, and the year before that deciding my future at Monster High with my friends and my newlywed husband. Eventually, Bram decided to double-major in Art History and Law and I had settled on Fiction Writing. My parents never did return from Italy, but Valentine managed the house for them until we started coming and going. Bram had finished off Art History with a Bachelor's two years ago, and he was toying with the idea of a doctorate in law that the university seemed fully prepared to allow him to continue with. These thoughts were the first on my mind in the first Saturday back in my bed in months. I was still on a mild high from graduation the previous weekend and the very thought that I had done with my life exactly as I'd wanted to still made my heart swell.

As if to contribute to the knowledge of my happiness, a wriggling form squeezed between Bram's body and mine. I opened my eyes and draped my arms across Zofie's back, her little blond head resting on my chest. She was six, as of two months ago, and as accustomed to wealth and privilege as her father in her short life. Her head rested on my chest, eyes still closed and warm little body nestled against my own. I caressed the cascades of blond hair tumbling over her slender shoulders, her little fist winding in my shirt as she let out a content sigh through her nose. "Good morning, my precious gem," I whispered to her and kissed the top of her head.

She made a quiet sound of acknowledgement, only nestling closer. I glanced to the clock and smiled at the late hour, "Why so tired, sugarplum?"

"Nightmare," she murmured, "I didn't want to wake you..."

Her father shifted slightly. I gently unwound her fingers from my shirt and placed another warm kiss on her pale forehead, placing her in the crook of his arms and watched him instinctively clutch her to his chest like a teddy bear. She buried her face in his shirt, and content with her safety, fell into an even deeper sleep than she had against me. They could sleep like that for hours, and since the summer had just dawned, I felt no need to disturb them. As per my usual, I rose from bed stretching as if I'd been inside a coffin for eight hours and made a quick trip to the bathroom before heading downstairs to tend to Sammy, Sabbath and the newest addition to our family- a fat, tempermental lop-eared rabbit by the name of Princess that had been bought for Valentine's last flame but left homeless after their split. We had a share of animals come and go in both houses, mostly fosters that had remained until they'd found permanent homes.  
Sammy was nearly all white in his old age, but his chocolate brown eyes were restored with youth and his lope had a spring to it. Sabbath had bitten him years ago, likely determining that her friend was not a candidate for death by her own means. Needless to say, they'd been inseparable since he'd come home with us. Despite her sleeping on the back of the couch in the open den, Sammy rose and trotted after me to the kitchen for breakfast.

Of course, I had barely put the kettle on before the door unlocked and Draculaura swooped in squealing, dashing into the kitchen where she knew I would be and throwing her arms around my neck.

"Finally engaged?" I teased.

She stuck her tongue out and produced a frame from her oversized purse; her masters. The glittering diamond offset by a pair of tiny citrines housed her left hand, where it had been for almost three years while she planned a wedding that everyone except Clawd teased her about.

"Well, I always knew you'd do something pointless with your life," I teased. I tugged her in for a warm hug, squeezing her curvy little body against my own, "Congratulations, 'Laura."

She stood on her toes and kissed my cheeks, withdrawing gleefully and clutching the wooden frame as if it were a lifeline, "Oh we have to celebrate! We just have to! Are you free today? Can we go shopping?"

"You're a literature major!" I declared, "Stop the presses, you've spent six years in college for absolutely nothing!"

She rolled her eyes, "Talk that way to your future agent. I'll never sign you for publishing."

It was my turn to roll my eyes as I turned off the kettle before it whistled. I turned, leaning slightly downward and kissing her softly on her plump fuchsia lips, "I call bullshit."

She smiled brightly and seated herself at the table, caressing the glass adoringly. "I can't believe it," she breathed, "I'm done. It's over. I get to read books for a living."

"When you get a job," I reminded her.

"I sent in my resume and my average reading speed along with everything I've read in the past six months, textbooks and required readings not included." Her eyes downcast to the frame, she spoke as if she had waited her entire life for this moment. Maybe she had. "I never thought he'd let me go to college, much less finish it."

"Your father is not that bad," I replied, cracking eggs into a bowl and assembling the batter for pancakes.

"He was until he met you," she replied. Tucking the frame gingerly in her bag, she returned her gaze to me and sighed, "You know, I thought he was going to have a conniption fit when he found out you were pregnant. He wanted me to hang out with the good girls and everything."

I scoffed, "I was already married, you know."

"I know. It just didn't matter to him at first. I guess I'm lucky he likes you." Her voice was so forlorn that, since I had become accustomed to her dramatics in the years of our friendship, I hardly noticed. I simply nodded and stirred, allowing the pan to warm up and melt its coating of butter before I placed the pats of batter in it.

"So are you free? We should celebrate." I wasn't sure exactly what she thought we should celebrate, but I was partially in for it. I cut the batter as it gathered into the shapes of various animals and flipped them when they'd assembled, "Maybe later."

She rose and came closer, leaning on the counter and going straight for my weaknesses, "The bookstore is having a sale. It's going to be gorgeous."

I rolled my eyes, "Nice try."

She resorted to pouting. I didn't even look her way, not until there were a stack of pancakes on three plates. "Are you staying for breakfast?"

She shook her head, "I already had some. Clawd is going to school through the summer." _Again._ I had to give him credit, he was eager to get ahead. It was an admirable quality. With him off schooling and working, though, Draculaura would be completely hanging on anyone she could grasp, and it was likely going to be us.

"How's Clawdeen?" I asked conversationally, silently hoping that it would trigger some unknown bit of knowledge that would send her off in the werewolf's direction.

She shrugged, "Working."

"That's real life," I teased, glancing to her, "Mornings with children, going to work, doing things that earn money and spend money."

"Being free," she exhaled and sunk into a chair. Her smile was full of rest and delight, but her eyes were restless. Clawd must've not celebrated with her last night. I shook my head and began cleaning up after breakfast's preparations. I almost expected her to speak again, but it wasn't long until I had finished and my golden family decided to rouse themselves for food. I set out two glasses of warm AB-positive and watched my best friend grimace. Though her diet had picked up just a bit in the blood category, she still remained hesitant to continue with it the way we did.

"Aunt Laura!" Zofie exclaimed, dashing in and leaping on her lap. Her large purse clattered against the back of the chair and for a moment, she looked alarmed, but turned her attention to the innocent child attempting to climb onto her lap with a small smile, "Good morning, Snow Bite."

Zofie giggled, glancing sheepishly between us as if she anticipated me to shoo her aunt away.

"Alright," Bram muttered with boyish happiness, "Dinosaur pancakes."

"It's a giraffe," I replied.

He glanced up, grinning mischievously, "I know."

Zofie glanced to him, until he helped her into her chair and kissed her forehead, "Spoiled little princess."

She beamed and picked up the fork that was still too big for her tiny hands and the equally large knife and cut into the first, "Mommy? Can I have some syrup?"

"Please don't be blood," Lala muttered quietly, turning away. Bram tried not to smile around his glass and for a moment, I considered scaring her. Instead, I placed the bottle of maple syrup between the two of them and took my seat on Zofie's other side. She watched admiringly as her father doused her pancakes in the sticky dressing before turning it on his own. Draculaura turned back with relief, her breath escaping her chest audibly. "What do you have planned for the summer, little one?"

Zofie shrugged and ate one large bite after another. I rubbed her arm gently, "Sweetheart. Slow down."

She smiled, her cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk's. Draculaura giggled and rose, kissing her head before glancing to us both, "She's so perfect, you two. I'm so happy for you."

I smiled. Once she swallowed, I leaned in and tapped my lips to summon a kiss that she gratefully obliged me with, leaving the stickiness of syrup in her wake. I licked my lips, "Yummy. I could just eat you up."

She beamed, tiny fangs glinting in the softness of early-afternoon light. Draculaura giggled and patted the back of her chair, "Well, I'm going to leave you all to get ready and consider my offer. I'll call later?"

"Alright sweetheart," I replied, beckoning her down. She rolled her eyes and broke into a conflicting smile, exchanging a pair of warm cheek-kisses with me. With a little wave, she started on her way out.

"Every morning," Bram muttered. Zofie beamed, her little feet making soft thumps against the chair.

"Gory?" Draculaura called.

I rose, wiping my mouth of blood before ducking out. Crossing the main room, I sighed, "What?"

She stood at the door, transfixed on the figure on the other side. As I came to stand next to her, I witnessed my adopted brother's stature for myself. In the years it had been since they had last seen each other, Valentine had grown a bit. He was taller, more muscular and the red streaks in his hair had become less prominent if they were there at all. His hair, cut a bit less dramatically, proved his ongoing maturation. The carmine of his eyes glowed in regards to her. He had two suitcases at his side and a duffle on the other, and for a moment I was horrified.

"I've never been here before," he replied, "You need to invite me in, darling."

His eyes had never left Draculaura, so I wasn't sure if he was speaking to her or me.

"Val, what are you doing here?" I asked, stepping in front of her to draw his attention away.

His eyes lifted and became forlorn. "I need a hand," he muttered, "and a place to stay for a while."

"What happened to the house?" The sorrow in his eyes was terrifying.

"Your parents," he nearly spat, the bitterness in his voice so rich it caused me physical pain. In his time of need, though, he had come to me. Maybe he had known after my wedding, I owed him a favor greater than any other. Blood did not make a family, but after all we'd done for each other, this had to be the very least I could've allowed. I rested my hand on the door just above Draculaura's and forced a small, sad smile to my lips, "Come in and tell me everything."


	2. Chapter Two

_Chapter Two_

Zofie curled up against her uncle, brushing the silky dark hair of one of her dolls. Valentine's eyes had brightened and warmed with a glass of blood, and with her by his side, his irritation had faded quickly. His fingers ran lightly through her hair, snuggling her as she did with her dolls.

"Your parents got back from Italy little over a week ago. Stefano was raving about your grandfather turning him out on their own again. They told me to pack up and get out, so I did. They were selling things off like mad. My father's old house and everything in it, gone in a matter of days. Everything of yours and mine is in my car."

I glanced to Bram and bit the inside of my cheek. "The business?"

Val glanced down to Zofie. Bram glanced to me and reached out for her, "Hey Zoey, let's go have a tea party."

She looked up and broke into a smile, "Okay, Daddy." He took the brush and doll from her hands to allow her to climb down from the couch, and she held out her little hand to him so he could escort her to her bedroom. He smiled and scooped her up instead, making her giggle. When they had disappeared out of sight, I sunk down on the sofa and lowered my tone, "Val, did we lose our money?"

"There was no business," he replied softly, "There never was. Apparently all of their fortune was my father's _charity_. Stefano's little business never took off as largely as he wanted people to think it had. He passed it on the other day to some poor, disappointed little sap. They sold the house before I left, and I know for a fact they're not staying in the country."

If they'd been caught up in organized crime, I'd know about it...wouldn't I? "Were they being investigated?"

"Not that I know of," he replied. He shifted toward me and grasped my hand against the back of the sofa, his lovely, angry red eyes staring deeply into my own. "I trust them. They weren't common thieves. If they left like that, they had a reason."

The thought that they wouldn't take the both of us with them meant only one thing to me; whatever they were running from must've thought we were dead. "How did she get you from point A to point B before?"

"Under alias," he replied. "We weren't living in his house then, we were living in the summer cottage on the lake. She burned it down."

If I had been standing, I might've had to sit down. The very thought was a disbelieving one, but my thoughts only came to one conclusion. The attack on Belfry Prep was the only event that could've warranted my death. Our subsequent escape had been quiet and the graves were unmarked. Everyone had been equal in death. Anyone could've been me. Anyone would have known from the activity of our internet lives that we weren't dead... Unless they didn't rely on technology.

"Gory, you gotta talk to me," Valentine coaxed, his hand shifting to rest between my shoulder blades and his tone softened, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I've seen several," I whispered.  
Hunters would've used every resource available, unless they didn't think we were that progressively aged, but my father ran a computer company, of course they'd know we were. My parents hadn't contacted me in years, and if the bank records didn't lie, we weren't even touching the same money. Someone had spent seven years hunting them while we sat hidden in plain sight. While relieving, it was also horrifying. It was impossible to slip, but one wrong move and we could've been done for, and we had gone on in ignorance for so long.

"They don't have the same phones, do they?" I whispered, recalling every occasion I'd tried to call my parents and been sent to voicemail. "They're routing the calls to somewhere."

"Likely," he replied, loosening his hold.

The shock was cold. I felt less and less numb as I fully processed his words. Unease turned my stomach and I ran my fingers through my hair in desperation. "What did they do?"

He shrugged, answering despite the fact I wasn't asking him. "You know, we might never actually find out."

I pushed away his arm and stood, "That's not good enough."

"Gory-"

"It's not good enough, Val, I have a _child_ to protect." I crossed the den, leaning on the shelf nearest to the window as I gazed out and attempted to regain my composure. I knew that they thought they were doing the right thing. We were grown then, and still they must've had every bit of faith in us to leave us. Unlike my parents, if Zofie had aged centuries, I wouldn't leave her on her own with no guarantees. The very thought was terrifying.

"Don't you dare," he said, as if he'd sensed my thoughts, "Gory, listen to yourself. You have her to protect, and I know you want answers-"

"Shut up," I snapped over my shoulder. Answers didn't matter. For all I cared, they were being chased by the KKK and they could continue to be, so long as I knew who was hunting them and how to avoid them.

"They'll trace it back to you," he continued, voicing my thoughts. "You'll put everyone in danger."

I shook my head. "We have friends in high places, Val." There were very few people in the world I'd trust with this information. Turning back to him, I met his eyes before passing him to make myself presentable for a visit with one of them. "Not Jonas," he said as he followed.

"He's taken his chances getting involved with us before, but no," I replied. Zofie's bedroom door was thankfully closed, and I relaxed under the knowledge she wouldn't have to listen to our argument.

"Then what? You can't just go find a PI, Gory, it doesn't work like that," he said, pausing halfway up the stairs.

"I hope you're on as good of terms with Draculaura's family as I am." I replied. I couldn't see his face, but as I shut the door to my room, I knew he'd growled, sighed and resigned to letting me do whatever I was going to.

...

The fading sunlight felt like the flames of hell. It was impossibly uncomfortable to be outdoors in this heat, but after dealing with Val, it felt like the only place to escape the tension.

"Val is incredibly upset," Bram observed. He climbed over the railing to perch above where I sat on the grass and watched Zofie run around the large yard with Sammy at her side.

"He's not the only one," I muttered.

He hopped down and sunk onto the earth beside me, draping an arm lovingly across my back, "Want to talk about it?"

I laced my fingers through his and sighed, "My parents decided to clean up their trail. They're being tailed or something. Apparently the Belfry Prep attack was faking my death, and my mother had already been through Val's. He's been perfectly fine to go live the rest of his life under a half-assed alias and spread enough money around to make people overlook discrepancies."

His brow quirked, "I thought this was over when we went to Chicago."

"When they left before the wedding... they've been gone since. They've been in hiding for seven years, or maybe not in hiding, I didn't even think to ask." It felt like an elaborate game of _Where's Waldo_ in which my brother and I had been hidden in plain sight for seven years while my parents dashed from place to place to escape something terrifying. I wondered how they pulled it off. I could tell from the distant look in Bram's eyes that he did too, but he didn't carry the same worry in his expression as I had. "I went to see Draculaura's father earlier. I told him everything I knew and asked him to find out what he could."

He nodded and gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Isn't it funny?" he murmured, "When we were young, we wanted to put ourselves in his place. Now, I don't think you could pay me to."

I rested my hand on his knee and watched our daughter's attention become suddenly distracted by a butterfly. Zofie loved butterflies like most other children, and that made the monarch that fluttered onto the grass become an instant subject of her fascination. She dropped to her belly in the grass and watched it very closely, inching forward with Sammy nipping at her shoes as if it were a game. I would've given anything to pause time so Zofie could get as close to the butterfly as she wanted. Before long, though, it fluttered off and the chase across the yard resumed again.

Bram's gentle massage to my shoulder resumed, his voice soft in my ear. "You look like you're ready to kill something." I was. It was too unnerving to know that what was intending to prey upon my parents could be anywhere and anything. Anyone. He squeezed my hand reassuringly. "I won't let anything happen to the both of you. The singular difference between you and I, my darling, is that you feel the need to oppose the world when I know for a fact that you and I together could use it to our advantage."

I lifted my eyes and squeezed his knee. "I'm afraid for her, not me."

He smiled, "Zofie's stronger than you think, she takes after both of us. She'll be alright."

The rush of her little feet drew my gaze back to the lawn. She ran over, wildflowers in hand and leapt into our arms. Sammy trailed after her, wagging and panting and worming in between us as she did. "I got you these," she said, climbing in my lap and dividing her weeds and poppies between the both of us.

"These are beautiful, Zofie," Bram replied, "You always design the best bouquets."

She beamed with pride and wrapped her little arms around my neck. Her happy mouth was a warm, rich pink, and her eyes glittered like a pair of polished garnets. I kissed her button nose, boosting her against my chest. "I love you," I murmured to her and have her a tight squeeze.

She squirmed to right herself and kissed my nose in return, "I love you too, Mama."

Bram scratched Sammy behind the ears and softly nudged him to follow him inside. As I stood with Zofie, I glanced toward the upper level and nearly expected to see Valentine watching and re-assessing his judgements. His window was absent of life.

Children changed things. I couldn't pretend to have acknowledged my teenage dreams of grandeur in the past few years with Zofie being the center of my world. I hadn't even given Belfry Prep much of a second thought since graduation. Most of us had forgotten, to no greater pleasure than our own. As my daughter curled her tiny face into my neck, I recalled the giggling of my friends and their caressing of my stomach while she kicked. The moment she had been conceived, she became the center of my world. Valentine didn't have kids, he didn't understand. I hopped the gate and followed Bram inside, allowing her to twist locks of my hair around her little fingers. We would've done anything to keep her safe without question. One day, he'd understand that.


	3. Chapter Three

_Chapter Three_

For some reason unbeknownst to me, Draculaura returned later in the afternoon with the declaration that all of her friends were busy with their own lives and that she intended to do something with them over the coming week. She had her days where she favored our company more than others, but I had a nagging suspicion that it wasn't my company she was craving.

While Bram was down in the dance room that we had converted to a home office a few years back, Laura, Zofie and I took up the den. I had an open book on my lap that every so often drew Zofie's attention with an innocently worded, "What's happening now, Mama?" For a while, Laura pretended to watch CNN before restlessly flipping to a drama movie channel. When Zofie saw Beauty and the Beast on the guide, though, she was forced to switch to the children's channel and sit in restless disturbance.

I set my book on my lap and exhaled, "Go."

Laura's brows rose delicately as if she didn't understand.

"Oh for Christ's sake, he's still nursing his bruised ego. If you want to go resolve whatever you left unsaid with him, go do it. Quit sitting here and making me feel like we're waiting for Daisy." It was true. I had no measure of sympathy for my pompous ass of a brother, but his ego was rather bruised after our parents' sudden departure. Luckily he'd graduated years ago and was between jobs- what he called a grace period- so the upheaval wasn't too horrible.  
Valentine was a struggling artist. The entire reason Bram had double-majored in art and law was to keep Valentine from getting screwed. Karma, it seemed, really did come around. His romantic liaisons ended badly for others and his business liaisons usually ended badly for him. Beyond the front of selfishness, though, something kind did brew. Of course, the few instances of his kindness that I had seen were directed toward my family, but I knew it was there. Valentine was one of the few gentlemen left on earth, despite being self-serving. He could elegantly and honorably beat a man to a pulp and took no flak on tea parties with Zofie. More than one of his paintings had been given to her and he'd done innumerable sketches upon her request.  
I knew if I breathed a word of it to Draculaura, she would completely forget the man she truly loved.

Zofie rose her little head with a thoughtful smile, a curtain of silky hair draping over her garnet eyes, "You were really gonna be my aunt?"

Draculaura smoothed her skirt awkwardly and shook her head, reaching out for her goddaughter, "Likely not. We were young, and I knew Valentine was a flirt. We just spent quite a bit of time together and like all things you tell yourself not to do, I did it anyway."

"Did what?" Zofie asked, climbing onto her lap.

Draculaura looked directly at me and I turned over the corner of the page in my book, sighing. It wasn't the first time I'd heard the story of my best friend and brother's romance, but for the sake of Zofie's youth, I'd let it be the first and only time she heard about it. "I fell in love with him," she said softly, brushing her fingers through my daughter's hair.

"Did he love you?" she asked. Love was a very simple concept to my daughter; Bram and I were in love. Mutual love. Uncle Valentine had many girls who loved him that he did not love back. Draculaura shrugged, "I don't know."

"Well that's silly, everyone knows when they're in love," she replied, climbing down to return to her little plastic castle.

Draculaura forced a smile, pretending that the comment didn't sting while her exotic eyes betrayed her. She sat delicately perched on the edge of the chair and I glanced to the door to make sure it was latched before smoothing my daughter's hair and placing a kiss on top of her head, "Do you want anything from the kitchen, my dearest love?"

She shook her head, focused on her little rubber dragon devouring a doll prince. I set my book beside her, drawing her attention, and rose. A glance to Draculaura silently beckoned her to follow. When we had safely slipped into the kitchen, I sighed and turned back to her, "You're engaged, Laura. Remember that."

"I do," she whispered, slipping up to the refrigerator, "I remember it every second of every day. I love Clawd, I swear to you I do, I just want to know."

Before I had the chance to ask, the one person I had not wanted to hear our conversation did. "Know?" Valentine's voice, as it pierced the air, was like a dagger sheathed in velvet. It cushioned her and brutalized me. Laura was not a very logical girl, I knew that from the beginning. After all the things I had done for my heart, I could safely say that I wasn't either, but I at least tried to apply it. She froze with her hand on the handle, her fingers wrapping around it as if to steady herself. She didn't turn. He entered the room in a breezy poet's shirt that made me suspicious of his knowledge of her presence. His hair was damp and ruffled, and when he reached her, he paused. I was a half-second from dousing them both entirely with the sink sprayer. "Draculaura," he said gently, "Know what?"

If Spielberg decided to write a romance, he couldn't have scripted it better. She turned, just slightly, her eyes raising to meet his while her body remained defensively away from his. Despite the waiver in her strong tone, she was trying to resist being embraced by him. "If you loved me."

I could've sunk to the floor and screamed. She was over sixteen centuries old, he was over five, and still they had waited four hundred years to get to this point in time. In my kitchen. While she was engaged and he was still struggling with the idea of adulthood.  
He stared at her. Her hand did eventually fall and progressively, she did turn to face him. Her eyes rose, her chin jutted just slightly with pride. He didn't touch her. Maybe he was searching her eyes for what he wanted to hear, but finally he glanced to me desperately and I sought the resolve to break their moment. I didn't have it. In defeat, his eyes fell back to hers and he sighed, "No."

Thank you Judas.

"I was falling quickly in love with you, but I didn't love you yet." His admission might've been the first flicker of sincerity I had ever seen with a woman outside his family. It broke my heart. He met her eyes and clasped her hands, "I'm sorry, Laura. I never had noble intentions for our relationship, you of all people knew that."

She pressed her lips together and nodded. They were not words she had expected and they were certainly not the words she wanted to hear. Even being the innocent, naive little dreamer that she was, I knew that Laura wanted nothing more than to be desirable to every man she passed. It was a basic feminine hope. But the chaste, gentle little girl hadn't realized that he didn't love her the way she had loved him, and her fantasy had been broken that maybe someone had loved her as deeply as her fiancee. It was a wicked thing to hope she had wanted to try to reclaim Valentine's love and now her hopes were dashed, but I did. I wanted nothing more than to keep them in the separation I had found them in.

She composed her face into this happy little smile and met his eyes once more, "Good. I'm glad. I'm getting married and I hoped inviting you wouldn't be strange."

"Not in the slightest, my dearest," he vowed, leaning in and kissing her cheek, "I wish you nothing but happiness."

Her brightening smile only meant that she would likely run out to her car and cry, but for his sake she simply lit up the room with her presence. She gave him a squeeze and held her stomach as she placed half-glasses full of blood on the counter for Bram and I while I crossed the room to brew tea. Valentine handled his own and poured the pitcher of lemonade for Zofie. He glanced to me, "Why do you let her act so normal?"

"Because she's allowed to be as she wants to be," I replied, "One day she'll grow into corsets and velvet and lace, but until then she can run around in her saintly dresses all she likes. She wants to be a little china doll. At least she lets me get her things that are from the right eras and the right places." The day was fast-approaching, I knew. Her early education had been handled here, and now that I was free, I wanted to keep her home with me. I could write in the bedroom or the den while she studied with a tutor. Children were cruel and my daughter was different, the last thing I wanted was for her to grow up under the same resentment and hatred that had become my childhood and teenage years. If my mother had allowed me to study what I pleased when I pleased it, with an emphasis on what I enjoyed, maybe I wouldn't have tried to break the fragile happiness that had first taken root here.

"You know, I hear Slow-Moe is teaching now," Draculaura replied, "He doesn't have a concrete job yet, but maybe he could tutor Zofie?"

"She needs friends," Valentine said in contrast, addressing her instead, "She can't hole up in this house like her parents forever."

"At least I have a house," I jabbed. It must've been too soon; it silenced him instantly. Draculaura rested her hand on my back, drawing my attention, "You have all summer to worry about it. But...you should ask her."

"I intend to," I replied, pouring the freshly-brewed Irish tea and pouring a few glasses. Valentine nodded in thanks. I picked up one and glanced to Draculaura, "Would you take mine and Zofie's in the den?"

She nodded, much happier to focus on the lemonade than the contents of my cup. I set the kettle down and carried the steaming mug intended for my husband down into the basement.

The hardwood floor gleamed still, a few scuffs from impromptu dancing over the years remaining. Area rugs draped lovingly over the floor to be pushed aside when it needed to be. Wallpaper was tucked against the wall, able to be taken off at need's basis. As I descended the stairs, I took note of the little square, black box with a color changing mouse head in the corner of the computer and knew with his headphones on, I would never fully attract his attention.

I smiled as I wandered over and set down the mug beside his hand, stealing a kiss in the process. He smiled. I motioned to it, only making the smile widen. "Thank you," he murmured, even though I knew he couldn't hear himself, and leaned up to kiss me. I pressed my lips gently to his and withdrew to glance over one of his law papers that he must've been studying. "Going on, then?" I brought myself closer to him, allowing him to feel the vibrations my words made in my chest. He nodded, "I might. I don't want to a horrible lot, but it'd be nice."

"There's always graduate school," I murmured, massaging his shoulders. He sighed, leaning his head back into my chest, "Yeah. Maybe I'd pro-bono for a while until I get myself established."

I pulled his earphones back gently, brushing his gilded hair from his face. "You do whatever makes you happy."

He clicked the mouse to make the color pause and withdrew his headphones from around his neck. He stood, tugging me closer and burying his mouth against my neck. I caressed his hair, "I didn't mean 'let's do that right now.'"

"You make me happy," he murmured, tracing his fangs gently over my artery. We were almost at our eleventh anniversary and he still made my toes curl when he kissed my neck. Warmth shot through my veins and pawed at my stomach. I clutched the silken strands between my fingers. He kissed up to my pulse and nibbled, licking and biting the tender skin where my blood thrummed ecstatically. "You're pure evil," I whispered. "I married Satan."

"I wouldn't be surprised if I turned out to be," he teased. He withdrew, knowing fully well that he'd successfully flustered me. He smirked, picking me up and setting my hips on the edge of his desk.

"Bram," I cautioned.

He sighed, resting his hands on either side of my body, "See, now we have a dilemma. Zofie's awake and we have guests, but...I'd really like to try working on baby number two."

"You're just like your father," I replied, resting my hand on his chest. It did nothing to deter him or my own instincts and my fingers slid up his shoulders to wind in the collar of his shirt before long. He nestled his body close against my own and made me momentarily long for the days when we could simply lock the door and leave our telltale signs of passion bordering on violence wherever we settled. The thought was what Maggie used to deter him from me every time she stopped in for a visit, but it was true. In more recent years, I had come to see Bram's parents in their naturally happy home life. Their spark hadn't flickered out, nor had ours.

As his lips lowered gently to my collarbone, I murmured, "This isn't fair."

He smiled and lifted his face ever so slightly, "What isn't fair?"

"You know how much I love you. It's not fair that you know I can't have you whenever I want you."

His smile had a wicked edge, and he tugged me forward gently to bump our hips together. I pressed my lips together to keep from making a sound. Surprised and pleased that I still affected him so, I forced myself to break my gaze from his. The heat was just too much. "Nothing is stopping you from having me," he murmured as he leaned in to pull my earring gently with a fang. A little throb of pain went straight to the pit of my stomach. I arched, letting him pull. "Bram, I swear..."

"Whether your brother is here or not, I want you. I know, you're probably busy...but I want to make good on it later." He wouldn't forget. He never had a day in eleven years. My knees could've given out if I had let them. Gently, I touched my fingers to his chin and guided his lips to my own before kissing him firmly. His hands drifted to my hips, pinning my body against the desk momentarily. When my lips left his, he growled in displeasure. "_That_ wasn't fair."

"No one said making your wife wait was fair," I replied. Slipping out from his grip, I smiled and swatted his backside playfully. His eyes darted toward me, burning with absolute desire, but he allowed me to escape for now.  
Draculaura wasn't the only one hellbent on celebrating.


	4. Chapter Four

_Chapter Four_

As soon as the work week struck up, Valentine had left for town to find something suited to his skills. It was apparently a feat that required Bram's assistance, leaving Zofie and I alone in the house for the day.

My first order of business while she slept was to go about tidying up the house. It didn't surprise me that Valentine hadn't intended to unpack, but out of partial curiosity and partial sisterly adoration, I took care of that for him. His shelves became lined with his books and journals, his clothes were neatly put away and the others that required washing were placed in his laundry basket to handle later. Once every box but one had been unpacked, it was safe to say I had no expectation of the unordinary among anything of his. I was vastly wrong.

In the last box sat mason jars, covered tightly and their tops wrapped in cloth. I lifted one and stared at the contents with macabre interest. My fingers caressed the imprinted glass and no matter which way it turned, the contents bobbed in embalming fluid and refused to distort. I counted the covered lids and felt a sense of childish giddiness at having a shared secret to keep. There were twelve hearts in the box, each with its own individual jar of embalming fluid. I could tell the difference between the hearts and their human and inhuman origins. Each looked inexplicably swollen and preserved.

"What sorcery do you possess, brother?" I whispered to the air. The heart I held was clearly vampire, dark with preserving anemic rot and bobbing gently in sweetly-scented formaldehyde. Of course I knew he had a collection of hearts, but I had never thought he was being literal. Most were vampire, actually. I tucked the jar into place and placed the box on the floor of his closet, draped safely under the cover of a stack of his jackets. When I emerged, Zofie was laying on the bed with her babydoll at her side, thumbing through his sketches.

"Zofie," I chastised, "Did someone say you could take those?"

Her eyes glinted knowingly, "Did someone say you could snoop through Uncle Valentine's stuff?"

"I wasn't snooping," I replied, joining her on the bed, "I was unpacking."

She smiled, but let the subject go. Most parents would've balked at the subject matter of my brother's sketches, but I was not my mother. I didn't intend to make common things into something gloriously taboo.

"I like this one," she said, setting down the others to hold up a picture of a blushing girl in a slip, tucked behind a linen sheet. "She looks like Aunt Laura."

"She probably is Aunt Laura." Even though the sketch was recent, it did have more than a recollection of her. A few of his sketches held color, usually the nature-scenes he sold or the half-finished battle pieces, but this one was one of the rare portraits I could see he had attempted to finish. Her eyes were shaded but not yet colored, her cheeks lightly coated in a blush that made her look alive. I loved Valentine's portraits for the same reason Zofie found them so interesting; they were like a photograph for a vampire. A moment of life captured in time, be it a thought, a fantasy, a dream or a piece of his life. There were a few of his birth mother and his family, one or two of my own, but most of his pictures were of the girls he claimed to have no love for.

"This one looks like her too," Zofie replied, holding up one of Val's more modest drawings of a beautiful young woman beside a tree. It almost looked as if she were peeking out from behind it teasingly, beckoning with her eyes for him to join in some mischievous chase.

"I'm sure she's in quite a few. She was the one that got away."

My daughter rolled on her back and let the picture drape to his bed, "Were you ever the one that got away?"

I shook my head, gathering Val's portraits and tucking them back in place. I moved closer to her, smoothing her hair back from her cherubic face. "No, my most precious one. Your father is the only man I've ever loved."

She sighed a sigh more mature than other girls her age. "That's so unrealistic."

"It's true, though. You're going to learn as you get older that boys usually think with their behinds and not their heads. There will be a rare few that have the capacity to use their heads, and they're the ones you don't want to let go."

She nuzzled closer, her hair draping with pin-straightness over her slim shoulders, "Will I get to be as pretty as you?"

"Prettier," I murmured, "You're going to be so much prettier."

"Will boys like me?"

"Boys don't matter. No one matters. The people that you like who like you in return are the ones who grow to matter. Everyone else is just fodder for the intelligent."

She giggled. Her giggle was like a chime. I would've given anything to see the world through her eyes once again. I was honest with her, and though it kept her from being as ignorant as her schoolmates, it didn't take the excitement out of her life. I had never lied any time I called her the perfect child.

"We should go have a nice little girls' day," I murmured to her, "Just you and I while the boys are out. We'll go pick up Aunt Laura if you want."

"And what will we do?" she replied.

"Go shopping, maybe go visit a little spa or a salon. Whatever you'd like."

She regarded my words carefully before nodding and springing up off her uncle's bed. "I need a minute."

I sat up with a small smile, "Take your time. We have all day." As Zofie ran off, I paused to take a blank sheet of sketch paper and leave a few words on it, tucking it gently in the fold of the box in Valentine's closet. _Your secret is safe with me._

...

While children dashed around the playground across the street, Zofie sat with one of her books in the seat beside me.

"I just love your hair," Meowlody gushed over her, "It's just _purr_-fect."

Zofie blushed and murmured in thanks, trying to bury her head in her book without distracting from her little cut-and-style.

"So, how's that book coming?" Toralei asked as she applied the violet dye to the fresh streaks in my hair.

"It's coming," I replied. "Valentine moved in Saturday morning."

"Fantastic," she muttered, "Send him over and I'll shear him like a sheep."  
Most people had let go of their grudges against Val, but not Toralei. I had the vague idea that maybe she'd been the slightest bit interested in him before he'd proven to be exactly the self-serving pain in the backside she'd hoped he was.

"Mommy?" Zofie asked, her eyes darting to me, "Can I get color too?"

Meowlody's brows raised. I glanced to Zofie, taking note of the interest in her eyes. "Nothing permanent."

She beamed up at Meowlody and gestured to the color I had, "Can I get tips?"

"Now I see why your mom brags about how smart you are." It was a little victory for her, something I understood well. I heard all the time from people I didn't know and found even less reason to respect about how I shouldn't appease her, but no one realized that Gomez and Morticia Addams raised their children on the same principal and they had turned out a step above the ordinary ones. Besides, what would lying to her about how she was born or if there was a higher power prove? She was made through a common biological process that wasn't exactly something to obsess over unless it was with the right person, and I wasn't dead. I didn't have all the answers, and there was no point in pretending I did. She wanted the truth, so I gave her the truth. I'd like to think I made leaps and bounds over my parents.

My phone chimed in my purse. I leaned down, hardly breaking Toralei's path of application, and clicked the speaker on, "You're in public and the presence of children, censor yourself as necessary."

Toralei and Meowlody glanced to each other with equal smirks. Zofie looked up from her book, "Hi Daddy."

"Afternoon, girls," Bram replied, "Valentine got a job."

"Good," I replied, "And how's your quest?"

"I might've gotten the one he wanted." His tone, while attempting to be sorry, fell sorely short. I could hear the grin in his voice and it only grew my happiness exponentially. "I'm almost afraid to ask what that would be," I said on a laugh.

"There was a man coming to see Dracula about finding a good artist, and I may have put my major in play. He was impressed."

I glanced back at Toralei, whose brows had rose with equal understanding. Meowlody's eyes gleamed the same. "Sweetheart...are you saying what I think you're saying?"

I could hear him grin. "I've been hired by one of Dracula's advisors as an agent for art buying. And yes, I slammed both of those majors together to get this job."

I squeaked and sat up, "That's fantastic! How did Valentine think he was getting that job?"

"He thought he could come in and sell to him. That was the original purpose, but after selling a couple pieces of Val off to the man, he told me that he could use my skills for a prolonged amount of time. The man isn't common nobility, either." I waited with bated breath while Bram paused for dramatic effect. "You are looking at the lead advisor to Mircea Florescu, _Dracula's lead advisor._ If I do well with him, I'll make the council."

Draculaura could hardly see this as monumental news, yet I hard the urge to call her anyway. I had the urge to call every last one of our friends and old schoolmates and throw the sudden success in their faces. _You thought we were useless in the real world, didn't you? That politics, passion and good grades wouldn't get us wherever we wanted? Look at us now! We don't have to rely on our fortunes! We're going to be making our own!_ "Darling, I can't believe it," I breathed, "We don't have this kind of luck."

"We do now. Who knows, if Dracula and I get to know each other personally, maybe I'll get up sooner than I thought." My husband's euphoria matched my own to the letter. Zofie, with her hair being tipped, simply replied, "Does this mean I get to be a princess?"

"Not quite, Zo. Though, we have just raised from Lord and Lady to Dukes, at least."

"Pass _Count_ and collect five hundred castles," Toralei teased.

Over my first summer in Salem, I had grown closer with the werecats over my constant falling-outs with Cleo de Nile, but by the end of our senior year of high school, we had all grown to mutual understanding. I had thought that rank wouldn't follow us out of school then, or at least had the naive idea that it wasn't applicable to life.

My joy became squashed almost as quickly as it had formed. My smile fell. "Was this the best idea?"

"What?" he replied. "This is good for us. And Valentine is working at Cupid's radio station, because apparently he doesn't offend her as much as he could and people tend to find him funny or something along those lines."

"But after what happened in Chicago, can you really say this was the best idea at a time like this?"

My friends glanced to each other and Zofie scowled. She folded over the corner of her page and sat with her book in her lap, paying more attention to her father and I.

"We'll talk about this later, but you need to trust me. We're fine. I have no intention of changing that." I had needed the reassurance once, but even his soothing tone did little to help now. "My girls are more important than having things to do in a day. I'll be home most of the time and it really is a good deal. Worst comes to worst, we teach Zofie how to defend herself."

She rolled her eyes, seemingly offended that he didn't think she could. I'd seen her bite people, I knew she knew how to use her fangs.

"We'll talk about it at home," I replied.

"I love you both," Bram said, his tone hardly betraying his irritation at my worried logic.

"Love you too, Daddy," Zofie replied.

"I love you too," I murmured. "Just be careful."

I could practically hear him rolling his eyes as he hung up and resumed whatever he was doing.


	5. Chapter Five

_Chapter Five_

Despite Bram's overshadowing announcement, Valentine hadn't been too unhappy. The purple tips at the ends of Zofie's hair had been well received and before long, night came. If Valentine had taken displeasure to my unpacking, he didn't let it show. Instead, much after dinner, got dressed to go out.

"I have a work party," he said enthusiastically, "I'm going to get acquainted with my new colleagues. I won't be late."

"Take your time," I replied while washing dishes and lifted my hand from the soap bubbles to beckon him over. As he buttoned his coat, he kissed my cheek and whispered "thank you" into my ear. I smiled, "I told you. It's what sisters are for."

He kissed my other cheek and grinned, "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

He knew I wouldn't. Still, he managed the business flair with his own personal style quite well, and as he left I felt innumerable amounts of pride.

"You've done better than your parents and one of them isn't even yours," Bram teased from the doorway.

I shook my head. "If you had it your way, there'd probably be more than one of mine." Like the first time hadn't taught him better. He sauntered in, wrapping his arms around me and pressing tiny kisses to my neck. "I know you're intent on celebrating," I murmured, "but you're going to have to wait like yesterday."

"Maybe being with you is a good luck charm," he murmured. "If you're so worried, maybe we should just indulge a little more often." He chuckled against my skin, brushing my hair back from my face affectionately. "I don't want you to worry so much."

"It's in my nature," I replied. He was perfectly capable of protecting us, I didn't need a reminder of that. Philosophers had always said that the greatest fear of mankind was the fear of the unknown and they were damn well right. I didn't fear humans because they were very simple creatures. I hardly feared our own kind or any others, though the occasional nightmare prevented me from being entirely comfortable with Lycanthropes, no matter how many arctic wolf pups of Romulus's ran around Draculaura's yard when their father visited her fiancee. The only thing I feared in my old age wasn't even in regards to myself. Once, I'd feared losing everything I worked for. Now, I could be penniless and dethroned, but so long as Bram and Zofie remained alright, my own well-being took second to theirs. He knew that.

"I am protecting you, right now and always," he murmured. "You and Zofie will always be safe."

"What about you?" I whispered, "Sabbath can bite and Sammy can run, Zofie can hide...you're stupid enough to fight back."

He laughed. Chivalry had become stupidity. We were a unit now, we didn't have the time to worry about these formalities. His fingers ran lovingly over my stomach, too soft to tickle my skin. "Do you remember when it was almost time...and you were in so much pain that getting up in the morning made you worry for her?"

I nodded. Vampire pregnancies were difficult. We weren't as strong of immortals as we would've liked to think- we weren't immortal. Not really. I had spent every morning beginning the higher powers that if Bram was going to lose anyone, that it be me and not our child. It was hard to forget the look of agony that crossed his face when he woke up next to me, my muscles tensed in agony and my entire body refusing to budge even in the slightest for the relief of nourishment or a trip to the bathroom.

"Do you remember how much I worried about you?" he murmured.

I exhaled slowly. Of course I did. He spent far too many nights awake with my head against his neck, cold sweat making my bangs stick to my forehead while his hand rested over mine at the crest of my stomach. "You had good reason to be," I replied, "If you and Maggie hadn't taken such good care of me...who knows."

"Exactly," he murmured, "I was ready to give you all of my strength to keep you and Zofie alive and well. If that ends up being what it takes now, I'd do it again."

"I want you to be safe with us," I replied, "I don't think you understand that you've been the center of my world for eleven years. There isn't a thing on this earth that has the strength to change that."

He gathered my hair at the backs of my shoulders, nipping my skin slightly. I rolled my shoulder to remove him, but he continued on nuzzling and nibbling up my neck. "I don't intend to let myself die on you. I just want you to understand that the two of you are my top priority. I can handle a fight." He released my hair, pressing his lips softly to my cheek beside my ear. His breath caressed my skin, dispelling the worry that had been stuck in my stomach all afternoon. "I would rather make sure you didn't have to do any more killing until it didn't matter if Zofie witnessed it or not."

I tried not to laugh, "Give it another six to nine years."

"You have an unrealistic expectation of how her life is going to go," he replied, releasing me to move beside me and help with the dishes.

"She'll be more resilient at fifteen. It'll be safer for her to start understanding things in that sense. I'm not going to pretend she's not going to want to start acting out like the other little brats, but let's just pray that the worst it gets is meeting the boys and supervising the alcohol instead of helping her safely dispose of the bodies."

He rinsed a plate in silence before sticking it in the dishwasher, "The first body will be the little shit who thinks he can go roll in the sheets with my daughter."

I laughed. It was easy to contain at first, but then the laughter simply started bubbling out until the bubbles were irritating my nose and I was leaning on the counter with my forearms on the edge of the sink and my head resting on them.

"I'm completely serious," he replied.

"So was my father until he met you," I replied, lifting my head to stare my husband in the eyes. I hadn't spent much of our relationship wondering what my life would've been like if we hadn't been together, but I could imagine I'd likely be as spoiled, scorned and bitter as Val could be at times. I reached out and grasped his hand, "Thank you for getting bored and coming to Belfry Prep."

He massaged the soapy dampness on the backs of my knuckles, "Thank you for having a crybaby roommate who left us alone together."

"Ew, you're getting all mushy over dirty dishes?" Zofie observed as she entered the room and bee-lined for the corner where the box of cookies sat.

"Excuse me, young lady, did you ask for a cookie?" Bram asked.

She gave him a look mirroring the sass of his comment as she planted a foot on either bottom latch of the cabinets and raised herself to counter-level, swiping the box and hopping down, "It's been a pleasure doing business with you."

I washed my hands and scooped her up before she could escape, "Oh not so fast. If you want to escape with those cookies, you'll have to pay the gatekeeper."

She batted her long, delicate lashes, "Can I pay you in cookies?"

"You can pay me in kisses," I replied. She giggled, placing the box aside to wrap her arms around my neck and kiss my face. I placed kisses to her cheek and pretended to nibble her. Bram snuck up and tickled her, making her scream and wiggle, "Daddy! No fair! That was a sneak attack!"

"Oh, was it?" he replied, scooping her up from my hold and giving her stomach a raspberry. At the rise of her shirt, she let out a squeal of protest and tried to worm away from the ticklish sensation. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she made herself comfortable in his arms like a little princess. They were like a pair of angels together, their spun-gold hair reflecting light in a way that shouldn't have been physically possible and their eyes like jewels, so warm and full of life. She was snow-pale, just like him. A little piece of us both that mirrored her father, as if the farthest spans of the universe knew that I would love her as deeply as him and found it only logical to make them identical. Aristotle had said men treat their children with more distance because they were less sure their children were their own, and if that were the case, I knew how it was so easy for him to love her as deeply as I did. I was not absent in her features; she had a face like mine.  
She was perfect.

I passed on her cookies and turned to grab my phone. The screen lit up with a missed call that I, naturally, tended to before following.

"_It's been a long time,_" the voice on the other end of the line murmured. It was so deep, velvety and smooth that I almost had a hard time placing it. "_I want you to meet me for coffee tomorrow morning, before your family rises. There's a diner at the edge of Riverfront Park. Meet me there at five thirty so we can sit down and talk._" There was a pause in which my disbelieving breath escaped me. "_I've missed you, Gory. I think it'd be safe to say you'll know you missed me too when you hear what I have to tell you._"

I pocketed my phone and followed my family upstairs. Zofie had already gotten herself in her pajamas and brushed her teeth, and she sat half-covered by her blanket waiting for her father to give up attempting to put up her hair. I shot him a grateful smile as I perched on the edge and gently wound her hair up in a ribbon before pinning it up against the back of her head in a neatly folded, flat little bun. "Goodnight, my dearest."

"I don't want to sleep," she whined, "I want to stay up all night with you."

"Try," I murmured, "You need it to grow. I promise, if you get some sleep tonight, you can stay up with me every night for the rest of the summer."

She pouted sweetly, "Promise?"

I held out my pinkie. She clasped hers with mine and smiled, "Thanks, Mama."

I set the box of cookies at the far edge of her nightstand, "And these will be here if you decide to wake up and watch cartoons in the middle of the night. But you have to brush your teeth before you go back to bed, okay?"

She nodded. I kissed her, Bram kissed her, and I turned on her nightlight and checked the locks on her windows before we left her to sleep. In the hallway, he tugged me close and clasped my face warmly between his hands, "She is okay. She sleeps about a hundred feet away from us, give or take."

"Jonas wants me to meet him for coffee in the morning," I replied on a whisper.

He withdrew, his brows rising in surprise, "Jonas? As in Jonas from school?" I nodded. "Why?"

"I don't know yet. He told me he'd tell me in the morning."

He exhaled slowly, "Alright. Provided Valentine gets home before then, I'll have him stay with Zofie and tail you. If he's not, we'll bring her."

For a moment, I knew he was as afraid of leaving her home with our fur-babies as I was. Sabbath would be sleeping on her right about now and Sammy would be beside her bed. They could only protect her so much, and even in a state of disorientation, Val could still do quite a good job. I forced myself to play the hero with his true worries exposed. My fingers brushed his cheek, "It'll be okay."

He smiled slightly, kissing my palm and pressing my hand to his jaw. I may not have been able to promise it, but I would try to make sure of it. I kissed his lips gently. "Let's go celebrate. No point in wasting a perfectly good night."

"I want to start staying up at night," he replied. I simply nodded and pressed my lips to his once again, silencing him and attempting to alleviate both of our worries. The most precious piece of our world was wrapped up in her bed, safe and sound. I melted into his arms and he into mine with the knowledge that Valentine would be home before dawn, and our little storm was no different than any other. It could look ominous for hours, but the rain would only last twenty minutes. Then everyone could be calm again, and no one wanted the apprehension to subside more than I did.


	6. Chapter Six

_Chapter Six  
Sorry it's a bit shorter than usual. Running on little sleep._

It was shortly after six and still barely dawn as I crossed the dewy grass to the small diner across from the park. A car or two rumbled down the still-awakening roads as shops were still hours from their stir to life. The bakery down the block was in full swing and the scent of bread cascaded toward me on the damp breeze. I had spent most of the night restlessly awake and on only three hours of sleep, my feet were practically dragging in my approach. The clouds overhead glistened with faint streaks of orange, lavender and pink that gave hints at the sun's approach, yet betrayed no light just yet.

As I stepped inside, the harsh fluorescence betrayed my eyes and I was left blinking in a momentarily stunned pause. The blinds had been drawn, likely at the first rays of sun. A few teenagers were curled up in a booth nursing coffee and obviously blooming hangovers. The checkerboard floors were spotless, as were the red vinyl booths and the faux-gold trimmed tables. There was only one other figure sitting alone at the counter, on a high maroon barstool with both of his feet up. From afar, his drink might've been mistaken for syrup.

"Jonas?" I murmured as I approached. It felt as if my voice would disrupt this carefully composed quiet.

The corner of the man's mouth twitched, and I couldn't believe my eyes. His once-shaggy hair was short, shorn close to his scalp and so richly black it looked as if it were made of the night itself. His skin was stark white, his cheekbones so prominent that I wondered for a moment if he were malnourished. As he turned, though, my breath left me. I was seeing a ghost. I clasped my hand over my mouth and took a step back.

"Morning, Gory," he murmured and offered his hand to me.

He looked just like our late coach. How I recalled his face so vividly became frightening, but he did not look like the Jonas I had once respected, trusted and somewhat feared. His eyes were vibrant as ever, but the skin across one was deformed with a deep indentation that appeared like the slow drag of a claw slicing flesh. My gut ached in phantom pain. He grasped my hand against my will and tugged me just a bit closer. Up close, I could see the instability in his eyes, but the understanding that made him the psychopath I had grown up with. "You look gorgeous with the kid out."

"Thank you," I murmured, still unsure if it was a compliment or not.

He motioned to his waitress to get me whatever he was having, and I glanced down at his plate. "They were Lingonberry pancakes. Trust me, you'll like them."

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked.

He returned his attention to his bloody tea, refusing to meet my eyes. "How's your daughter?"

My blood was getting cold. "Jonas, don't play games with me."

He turned to me slowly, dragging my chair silently closer. As he bowed his head to mine, I knew that there wasn't a soul in the room who cared what secrets we had to share, but he did. "I know why your parents are running," he whispered, "I've always known."

I forced a smile to our waitress as she set food before me and a blessedly full cup of tea swirling with redness. He set down his cup and grasped my hand. Despite the proximity to warmth, he was cold. "Keep a poker face and listen closely. Your parents are in some deep trouble with our kind. It's a bit of a long story, but let's just say that I did my digging."

"Belfry Prep," I cut in, "Was that them?"

"It was their fault," he murmured. "Your parents have been trying to rise a coup for a few years now. It's why your mother had to fake her death. They had planned to pin the deaths on lycans. They wanted to get enough people angry to overthrow Dracula and put themselves in power. They wanted the old way. When you were engaged, you were out of the way. They planned to come back for you later, and Val was just Val. They could count on him being ignorant." Yeah, that sounded about right. "They've been trying for seven years. He's been hunting them."

"What about the attack?" I whispered, "If they thought I was safe, then why didn't they react to the attack more than they did?"

He toyed with my engagement rings and whispered, very soft and low, "You were supposed to die. They gave them your scent, made it seem like an accident. It was all a part of their plan, and your survival only meant they had a grand-scale war...or so they thought. My brother kept saving you. He got wise fast and you know how that ended."

My blood grew colder. I turned to face him and watched the gentle calm in his face. Jonas had lost everything that night, not just his sister. He hadn't lied to me when he had said his parents were dead, but they were likely the only parts of the family left. He had become alone in a day, and I hadn't even cared for him enough afterward to take that into consideration. I squeezed his hand and he exhaled slowly, "You need to trust Dracula. He's keeping you and the Devein clan close, not just because you're connected to them."

"I'm so sorry," I whispered.

He shook his head slowly and released my hand. He produced his wallet and set a few bills down on the counter, and as he tucked it away, he murmured, "I'm not." I wanted to question him; he'd only answered so much, and I wanted to know all that I could. He simply patted my knee as if our conversation had aged him, "Stay close to them. Trust him. Don't trust your family."

Before he turned to go, I caught his sleeve. "Her name is Zofie. She's six. She's beautiful, and she looks more like Bram but her bone structure is a lot like me. You'd like her."

I thought I saw a flicker of a smile on his face, but he had his back to me and I couldn't be sure. "I know I would." Gently, he tugged away and continued on, and I was left to finish my tea and pancakes alone. As the waitress came to collect his money, I glanced up to her, "Does he come here often?"

"Every day," she replied. "Always pays cash."

"What does he do?" I took a sip of my tea, watching her and the other occupants carefully. She just smiled, "He's a detective. Works above the bakery. From what I hear, the lady who runs it is his wife and the little bike runner's their little girl."

A warm surge of relief coated the inside of my chest. I smiled into my tea.

"He's an old friend of yours?" she replied, making quiet conversation as we had.

I nodded. "We went to high school together."

Before she headed back into the kitchen, she called over her shoulder, "It's funny how things change, isn't it?"

In a way, it was. We had grown physically older, we had spent money and most of us had gotten jobs. Some of us had settled into families. Vinnie was a mechanic and their twins were hellish little demons of doom, but they were still our family. Natasha was still a politically active flower child. Jonas was still mysterious and in his own twisted way, very just. I wondered if Tiff and Jacob had stayed together, or if Ruth and Walter had opened up that inn down south they had talked about at graduation. I wondered if Blanche still resented that I never continued the fearleading team because of Zofie, and that I had always found school to be less important than my family after we'd conceived. I closed my eyes and I could almost remember the moment Cleo had seen me for the first time with an obvious baby bump. It was just after winter break, and the De Nile clan had been on an extended vacation. We had settled in and we were happy, and Maggie and our family had been back to see us and fawn over their first grandchild before her birth.

"Funny meeting you here," Valentine said as he sunk into the seat Jonas had been occupying. My thoughts disrupted, I lifted my head to see Cupid slinking into a booth with a few others. I finished my last sip of tea and glanced down at my empty plate, trying to remember when I'd eaten my food.

"Ground control to Major Tom, anybody in there?" he teased.

I nodded, "Tired. I'm...gonna go home."

I rose and Valentine turned to glance back at his new coworkers. "Aren't they something?" he asked with his eyes shining like a little boy. I patted his head and smiled, "Yeah, they're something."

I could barely keep my eyes open upon my return home. The light was making itself obvious, and I longed to nestle into the warmth and safety of my bed. Instead, when I wandered in, I found Zofie sleeping on the stairs. I scooped her up and cuddled her to my chest. She stirred, giving me a chance to whisper to her, "Why are you asleep on the steps, darling?"

She shrugged and murmured, her words slurring with exhaustion, "I wanted you, but you weren't there..."

I boosted her gently and carried her to my room, placing her gently down between her father and I. Her tiny face pressed into my breast and I slipped my arm over her to wind in the side of Bram's shirt. My head rested on his outstretched arm, stirring him only slightly. Zofie was fast asleep within moments and I was trailing, but Bram nudged me just a bit closer and disrupted my near-rest.

"What happened?" he muttered.

I closed my eyes against my will and traced my thumb slowly over his side. In my silent promise to tell him later, I heard the two heartbeats that meant the most to me. Their deep, even breaths were soothing and more than enough to successfully lull me to where I should've been. It was thankfully a deep and dreamless sleep that seemed to make everything in life a little more real by the time I had stirred again.


	7. Chapter Seven

_Chapter Seven_

There was a warm, sweet tang to the cheese in my sandwich. Peppers and steak peeked out from the soft roll of fresh bread; it made me wonder if Draculaura had cooked them or bought them. We sat on the veranda with Zofie and Sabbath, having lunch while Bram went to work in the cellar and Valentine was off at the radio station.

"We picked a date," she commented between bites, "We're actually trying to plan for late July. It's not like we don't already have everything in mind."

I sipped my tea, "But does it all match?"

She nodded. I watched her pick out the pieces of half-raw steak and drop them to the plate. Each wet smack summoned Sabbath's attention more and more, and finally the cat sprung up and took up half the table in her size, devouring Draculaura's cheese-coated scraps without a sound.

"You're going to give her cholesterol problems," I said, raising my chin to see over her arched back. Her face was occupied, though, gazing lovingly at my manor house while the babbling sound of our little fountain nearby held her attention. I studied her expression while she stared off into space. Her wide-brimmed sun hat was pink and white straw, a shade that her eyes almost appeared while they were dipped in shadow. I moved my chair a bit closer. The sound of metal on stone snapped her from her absence, her cheeks coloring lightly in blush. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head, "Don't be. You're soon to be a married woman, you have your occupations."

She tucked a lock of silky, dark hair behind her ear before she returned her gaze to me. "We were together six months before we met, you know. It's been a long time."

"I know," I replied. Even while she floundered for words, I sensed that the acknowledgement she sought was not just for her.

"We still haven't..." her breath released in a sigh and I shifted. She immediately threw up both hands defensively, her cheeks going reddish pink with embarrassment, "No! Not that! We've done that! We do that quite often, no. I mean..." She swallowed hard and allowed her smile to fall, "It's been eight years. His parents weren't even together a full year before he was born. I know he hasn't said anything, but...werewolves have a lot of children. And we haven't."

I shook my head and gently draped my arm across her shoulders, "You're a vampire. It's different for us than it is for them. You don't have to feel guilty about taking your time to do things." Even I could admit, I hadn't wanted to have children so early at first. The first few days had been panic. I glanced over to Zofie and took reassurance in her black skirt cloaking her skin from the sun, her own wide-brimmed hat a perfect, pale yellow like the petals of a buttercup. My fat, lazy cat lounged on her lap while she read much as she had done with me, and one of my daughter's delicate hands brushed her fur while the other turned pages in her book.

"You have Zofie, you can talk," she replied, sulking.

"I missed prom and I spent my senior winter break anemic. You and Clawd went off to Aspen or wherever and probably had wild sex on a bear rug or something." She looked at me as if I shouldn't be so blunt around my daughter; Zofie had the capacity of caring about physical affection that I had about studying politics. As beautiful as she was, I hoped to keep it that way in a decade. "Don't be so quick to give everything up while you're young. You went through college. You went to prom. You drank at parties."

"I ruined her life," Zofie said dryly from the floor.

I stood and crossed the space to her. Sabbath, sensing trouble, fled into the safety of the house. I picked her up and folded over the corner of her book. She pouted, but accepted the closed little thing. "Don't you ever say such a thing," I murmured, taking her chin firmly in my hand. "You did not ruin my life. You could never. I had plenty of time to be a teenager before you were born. I did it, and I wouldn't have gone regardless. Your aunt is the one who cares about those things."

She huffed. "I did. I heard the stories, people were mean to you."

"And you act as if I gave a damn," I replied. Her little mouth twitched in a smile. I think she liked it when I cursed. I wasn't stupid, I knew she held Bram and I on some kind of heroic pedestal. When I acted like a regular person instead of her mother, she trusted me a bit more. The last thing I wanted was to have the relationship Draculaura and her father had with her. "I was better than them anyway, and they knew it."

Her little arms wound around my neck, the brim of her hat slipping backward until I had to clasp it against her head to keep it there. She laid in my arms as if they were a swing, safe and very bodily warm against my chest. "I love you," she murmured. She had a very soft little face, and as it pressed into my shoulder, I felt my annoyance at her words melt away.

"You are the best thing to ever happen to me," I replied, "You should know without a doubt in your mind that I love you too."

There were tears streaming gently down my best friend's face. I kissed my daughter's lips and murmured, "Go tell your father that he needs to eat sometime soon."

"Okay," she replied. I set her down and watched her dash inside, the lacy hem of her dress swishing on her pale calves and her tiny, white shoes clicking on the stone. I sat down beside Draculaura and allowed her to fold into me the way my daughter had. My affection for her had never ceased, and as she clutched my shirt, I rubbed her back. From the base of her spine to the base of her neck, I caressed her spine slowly. She clutched handfuls of my blouse and sobbed, her makeup running onto the pale violet of my sleeve. "There's nothing wrong with you," I soothed, "I'm the one who's had the fucked-up physicality since high school. Take a wolf claw to the stomach and apparently everything gets to act up for the next ten years."

She was borderline hysterical. I gently pulled her face away from me to force her to meet my eyes. "I don't want to let him down," she blubbered, "He's been so good to me, he tries so hard. He went to school and he has a job, he's trying _so hard_ to give me everything himself."

"Then maybe you should wait until he can, so he doesn't feel guilty for your supporting him." I swore, the Dracula family was the only one to still try to play the game of life with gender roles involved.

"He deserves at least this!" she gasped tearfully, "What if something happens to me? He needs something to keep him going!"

I couldn't stop myself from smiling. "Did you really just say you want to get pregnant because he'll have something to live for with a baby?"

She calmed herself just slightly, looking at me with her balled fists against her cheeks, "This isn't funny."

"No, it's not, but you're sorely over-reacting. Zofie is the best thing that ever happened to me, but I'm not even going to pretend that there weren't nights she only let me sleep a broken-up two or three hours and kept me up all day the next day. Do you understand what your blood smells like being channeled into the inside of a diaper? Bram wants another kid too, but six years is not enough to make me stupid enough to want that again."

Her eyes brightened slightly, "Oh shut up. She was an angel baby. She hardly cried."

"That's because she was too busy biting the both of us," I replied dryly, making her red-pink lips burst into a momentary grin. She shook her head and lifted the white linens, dabbing her eyes and the mascara from them.

A soft knock at the outer door drew our attention. Val stepped out and smiled, "I thought I heard the melodic laughter of beautiful women."

I rolled my eyes. "I hope Cupid found that line cute."

Instead of replying to my sarcasm, he crossed the stone floor to Draculaura and didn't hesitate to kneel beside her. What I wouldn't have given for a third chair. The last thing she needed was to get stupid, romantic ideas back in her head about Valentine, but he didn't seem to see the problem as I did. He took the napkin from her hand, folded it over and gently wiped the stains from under and above her eyes. She exhaled, closing them and allowing him to fix her makeup and wipe her tears away. His hand propped her chin up gently, and as her eyes opened, they met his. I was livid in an instant.

"What are you doing?" I said out loud, though neither of them seemed to hear me. He caressed her cheek and rested the linen cloth on her lap. Her eyes fell to it before lifting once again to meet his darker ones.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered. I could've knocked over the table, but they probably wouldn't have noticed if I did.

"Val," she murmured, "Were you lying to me?"

He shook his head, "I didn't have the pleasure of loving you. Just simple captivation...adoration..."

"Nausea."

At last, his attention went to me. "Jealous?"

"Only that I can't pop your ego with a pin."

Draculaura set the napkin on the table and rose, successfully brushing off our argument. My ego puffed up with pride. "I should be going. I have things to do."

He grasped her hand as she went to pass him. I stood and calmly pushed in my chair. "I would like to catch up sometime. I still haven't properly congratulated you."

His words didn't match his expression. As she stared into his eyes, hypnotized without a dose of vampiric power, hers followed the same pattern of betrayal. "Thank you anyway. We should...sometime."

"After the wedding, perhaps," I said, trying to remind her what a horrible idea it was to let the past return at a time like this.

"Perhaps," he echoed. He pressed his lips very gently to the back of her hand and I did the most mature thing I could think of; I physically snatched her away. She stumbled in her heels and gripped my arm, her slender back pressed against my chest. My eyes were blazing with territorial fury. Valentine shook his head as if he'd seen it coming and made no move to follow us. I dragged her toward the door, my grip on her still firm. "Gory, what's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" I asked, spinning her around. She stumbled into the door, but I didn't let go. "What's wrong with _you_? You're getting married, for Cain's sake, to a good man that loves you. Why are you paying my asinine brother the time of day?" She opened her mouth to speak, but I didn't let her. "Don't come around for him, Laura. If he really loved you, he wouldn't try."

She stared at me in hurt and disbelief before murmuring the most idiotic thing I had ever heard her say. "You're jealous."

I laughed out loud. She stared at me in disbelief, waiting for me to defend myself, but I just laughed. "Jealous of him," I finally replied, "Sure. Of course I'm jealous of my freeloading brother, who has never kept a job, who has never kept a woman, who has done utterly nothing with his life but go to community college." I paused, watching the pity and realization reach her eyes. "I have nothing to be jealous of, and you have absolutely nothing to want."

She shook her head slowly. There were tears in the corners of her eyes that spilled over at my harsh words. "He may not be you, but he is my first love. And you might think he's worthless, but he's not. I loved him."  
If she had more to say, she didn't voice it. Her eyes begged for understanding that never came. Her lower lip quaked and she righted her hat, turning so it brushed the air in front of my face, and she left. The thud of the door falling into its proper place was the loudest and most final sound I had ever heard in my entire existence. It filled me with discontent and fueled my irritation as I turned on my heel and brushed past Valentine, "I hope you're happy."

"_I'm_ not the one who upset her," he replied, "that was all _your_ fault."


	8. Chapter Eight

_Chapter Eight_

I shouldn't have been as upset with her as I was, I knew that, but there were times when Draculaura's temper just put mine off. Even though we'd had our differences over the years, it had never come down to this. She still hadn't called me, and I still hadn't called her out of grudging pride.

"You're a better Irishman than I am," Bram observed from the corner of the den where he sat with his laptop. With Zofie off napping and Val at work for the night, we finally had some alone time. It was spoiled by my annoyance at my best friend, my brother, and Clawd Wolf for not reassuring her better. I had reverted to my old high-school mannerisms. Coping with my irritation meant indulging in a highly caffeinated lime cooler and binging on snack foods while watching Prince Arthur restore Camelot. My husband set down his laptop and moved to my side, stealing the strawberry-dipped biscuit stick from my fingers and placing it between his lips. My lips quirked upward at the corner, but I refused to smile.

"Stop being so cute, I'm trying to be angry."

He simply leaned in and nudged my mouth with the tip. I surrendered, smiling and nibbling toward the center with him until our lips connected. His palm ran over my back completely flat. I leaned in and nipped his ear, curling just a bit closer to him, "Why does she have to be so difficult?"

"She likes to fight with you," he murmured, "You keep her open-minded. I think that's what she loves about you. You have the ability to argue with anyone over anything."

"Never leave me alone with the pope," I replied. He chuckled and toyed with the ends of my hair. His other hand raised and he pressed his fingers to my neck. My thrumming pulse against his index finger, I resisted the urge to shiver as he brushed his fingers slowly over the spot. "Your passion gives you life," he murmured, "It's something so many others lack. Sometimes I think she might be envious of it."

My eyes lifted to meet his, and in his closeness I massaged his knee. "How so?"

"She's at a crossroads. So many of us have already chosen our paths, and she's so used to being in stasis. Never growing old, never growing up...do you realize she might've stayed in school if we hadn't come along and given her and her system a nudge?"

I smiled, "She wouldn't have. She depends on them more than us, she would've followed."

"You do make her less hesitant to face her fears. I've never entirely established why, but I have a few theories." He stole a warm kiss and brushed his fingers down my throat. The ends of my hair tickled my skin as they were tucked behind my ear, his gentle touch hardly parting contact with my skin. "She's just unsure," he murmured, "She'll come around. Just give her a few days."

"She doesn't need a few days," I replied, "She's had sixteen centuries. She has a man she needs to marry, she has a job she needs to get."

"Speaking of jobs," he murmured, "You need to work on that book." He knew I would. When everyone had gone to bed and Valentine was off the air and probably out with his potential girlfriend, I would go to work in the comfortable darkness of our bedroom. I worked best in the cover of night when there was no one to disturb me. The silence, though at times piercing, had been the best aid to focus that could've manifested itself; the silence of the predawn hours were a kind of silence that could never be replicated.

"Do you remember when we were in Ireland?" I murmured, "Just after the wedding? We went up to your childhood bedroom before the party was even really beginning...and there was so much stone separating us that we laid there together in complete silence and could hear each other breathe?"

He smiled slowly, "I remember vividly." He kissed my jaw tenderly, his lips so delicate on my skin that it should've been a sin. "You were somehow more glorious than I've ever seen you. I think it might've been the elation at the fact that you were truly mine and I was truly yours."

I ran my fingers through his hair, "I want that again." I wanted to lay with him and listen to his breathing. We were young and we were free. We had pledged ourselves to each other until our bodies ached, and his mouth kept pressing to my pulse like he was feeding from my very existence. He drew me just a little bit closer, understanding completely without a single spoken word, that I wanted to feel young and whole and infinite again. We had visited my grandparents and nothing had been amiss. We had conceived days later, and I had felt the unmistakable urge to take the child that was inside me with us on a grand adventure to show her the beautiful world that, one day, she would join.

"Zofie said something horrible earlier," I found myself whispering to him. "She said she ruined my life."

"She thinks that on occasion," he murmured. "She's asked me more than once if I wanted a little boy or a little girl, or if I would've liked to take you on a longer trip to better places and drink the way our friends did. I don't think she fully comprehends that we're not exactly normal yet."

She understood more than any child ever born possibly could. She knew that most animals died when they were far too young, because they already had unconditional love in their hearts and their lives were not as flawed as ours, giving them the chance to love and think and feel and need less time to accomplish what they were earth-bound for. She knew that she was not human nor would she ever be, and that the darkness was nothing to be afraid of nor the things within it. I couldn't begin to praise the extent of how much she knew and understood, and yet the idea that she didn't understand that we weren't like the parents she saw on television surprised me.

"Why would she think that?" I whispered, "The both of you are my world."

Bram shifted away, his arm draped over me gently. "Do you remember when she went to the playground that one time, and there were those human children there among the little monster ones?" I nodded, failing to see the significance. "She played with them because she felt bad for them. Remember why they ran away?"

I tried not to smile, "She said how sorry she was that they were going to die soon."

"She doesn't have many friends, darling. We're her best friends. She knows you love her, but she thinks that you could be off doing better things, and that sometimes you play with her because you feel badly that she has no one else to play with."

If I had the ability to laugh, it would've been choked with grief. I looked at him desperately, "But you know how horrible the world is for someone like her. She's gifted, Bram. She doesn't follow these freakish conformist children, she'd rather live in a book than on a cell phone."

"I know," he murmured.

"I'd set her up online if she showed any interest in it."

"I know."

"She wouldn't be happy with them. That's why I understand why Draculaura wants a child of her own. Don't you think I want her to have that too? So Zofie has someone she can actually enjoy the company of?"

He sighed. "I don't want to send her to school in the fall, but we might try it. The worst that can happen is that she understands."

I had never been more angry with him in my life. I pushed him away and got up. He looked surprised, but waited for me to speak before asking what he'd done wrong. "That is not the worst that can happen, that is the worst thing that could possibly happen to her. If I had the chance to live my life under the illusion that people really were genuinely good in their hearts, I'd take it. She's too young to know that everyone in the world is a deeply horrible person, we just have our moments. She's not going to understand what she does now out there."

"Gory-" he began, trying to calm me down.

"They'll tear her apart just like they did me. I'm not letting her go get hurt like that, I won't stand for it. When she expresses interest in real friends, I'll get her a blog! Let her find someone with interests like hers to make friends with! Someone who won't make her feel worthless and wrong."

He nodded toward the door and I turned, my eyes still tearing slightly. Zofie stood in the door in her yellow cotton pajamas, her tiny bare feet against the hardwood and her skeleton frog clutched tightly in her arms. Her expression was so crestfallen that it broke my heart again. Mature beyond her years, she came straight to me and looked up to me with wide, trusting, understanding eyes. "You wanted to protect me?" she murmured.

I nodded.

"Because people will hate me?" she whispered incredulously.

I lowered to her level and gently took her arms in my hands. There were tears brimming in her eyes, and I pressed my lips together solemnly. "I don't know. I know from my experience, though, that people like us aren't notoriously popular. The people in books are few and very far between. Unfortunately, Belfry Prep doesn't exist anymore. It's harder for you to find them in person than it would be through a screen, and if I can stop you from being hurt by the people you would have to sift through to find a friend...I want to."

A singular, perfect teardrop ran from her eye. "Other vampires?" she whispered.

I shrugged, "We can try, if you want. I don't want you to grow up alone and upset, that's not my intention. I just want to make sure you stay as excited about life as you can for as long as you can."

She nodded and wiped her cheek. "I trust you."

I scooped her up. Her little body curled into mine. I hated being so brutally honest with her, but lying to her would never solve a thing. She pressed her face into my neck and took a deep breath. I felt her little body shake and clutched her between the both of us. She drew back and wiped her eyes, staring up at my face, "I wanna try. Maybe not in real school, but I wanna try. If they don't like me, I don't care. Because there are always other people, right?"

"Of course, Zofie," Bram murmured. He ran his fingers through her hair lightly. She closed her eyes for a prolonged blink and opened them slowly. The ability she had to steel herself to the world was something I admired and something she clearly got from her father. She met his eyes and a moment of silent understanding passed between them. She got up, kissed my cheek and murmured, "I want to read what you were reading."

"Alright sweetheart," I replied. I set her on the floor and rose to get my book of Shakespeare's sonnets.

"And Mommy?" she asked.

I turned back toward her, noticing how Bram picked up his laptop to continue working with her awake to be his muse. "Thanks for being honest with me. I wish your mommy did that with you."

Bram kissed the top of her head and I smiled. It was not a sad smile; I had given up on sorrow over my family ages ago. "So do I." So _did_ I.


	9. Chapter Nine

_Chapter Nine_

As I returned downstairs from putting Zofie to bed, a pair of headlights painted the living room in the brightness of yellow bulbs. Curious, I descended the stairs in a flurry and pulled back the window cover to peer into the night. Dim, cloud-glazed moonlight ran over the sleek body of a Rolls Royce hearse. The car's very stateliness made my heart jump. "Bram?" I called as I unlocked the door.

He emerged from the den, blinking as if he'd just awoken, "Hm?"

"Dracula is here."

His eyes widened. He glanced around as if seeing the place for the first time before disappearing, fetching his laptop and trying to recover a measure of his composure. I fixed my hair and took a breath before pulling open the door.

The King of Darkness's driver opened his door, and while I descended to the lawn, he stepped out. It was one thing when he was my best friend's pretty cool father, it was something else entirely that he was my husband's boss. As a friend, he'd never seen the house before, but as a boss, it seemed he wanted to. I almost expected him to be draped in a long, heavy overcoat with an umbrella, but he didn't appear any different than our first meeting as he gave a nod of thanks to his driver and turned his attention to me. His eyes were very warm, and though the tan had faded in the past years, there was still a richly olive tone to his skin. Clad as usual in plain, black dress pants and a nearly identical shirt, his shoes shined slightly. They were leather, I could tell. I didn't think I'd ever seen him fully dressed like a businessman before. There was no hint of business in his expression as he crossed the lawn to me, smiling warmly and opening his arms, "Lady Devein, lovely as always."

"I could say the same for you, Mr. D."

His eyes glinted warmly. He pulled me in for a hug whether I wanted one or not. It was hard to find Dracula imposing after having known him for seven years. I exhaled, smiling and returning his hug with equal warmth. He kissed both of my cheeks and offered his arm, "Shall we talk? I don't mean to impose, but I have news that I felt was best to be shared as early as possible."

"Of course," I replied, lacing my arm through his. "Come in, you're always welcome here."

I glanced to his driver, but the man seemed content to turn off the car and fall asleep. Either he had been around vampires long enough not fear them or he considered himself too old to worry about his own safety. Still, I wanted to at least invite the man in. Call it paranoia, but when there were things out there that threatened a vampire's safety, it was probably a good idea for the humans to stay indoors.

Bram descended the stairs with an easily composed smile, extending his hand to his new employer, "Mr. D, great to see you."

"Likewise, Bram. Though it's my regret entirely that this can't be more of a social call." He rested his hand on top of mine, his palm very warm and fatherly. Despite the touch, my blood went cold. I led him toward the den, "Regardless, is there anything we can do for you?"

He glanced down to me as if he were about to offer the same. "I'm fine, thank you."

While my husband shut the doors behind us, Dracula led me to the chair Bram had previously occupied and settled on the edge of the sofa near me. He clasped my hand in his own and smiled very warmly, "You do understand that as a leader, I have to do what is necessary."

My stomach was twisting. I nodded.

"You also understand that as your friend, I can't possibly tell you how much it pains me to have to deliver this kind of news to you. You have been a wonderful influence upon my daughter and a brightening to my whole family, and I do not want this relationship to change."

I was at a loss for breath or words. Bram knew and took up the place behind me. "What is it?"

His eyes were full of liquid warmth, and as one of the most powerful men in the free world squeezed my hand reassuringly, my husband's hand came down to my back as if he, too, sensed what was coming. "About an hour ago outside of Vienna, your father and a team of rebels were gunned down and taken into custody. One of them was wearing a UV bomb." He took his story very slowly, very gently, as he knew I would need the extra moment to process what I was hearing. I felt sick. "Your father, before being released by one of my men, had vowed that he would rather die than continue living under my oppressive regime." There were tears in my eyes, but they didn't yet fall. I didn't fully understand. A piece of me still had hope. "They were bound together very well. Even if they wanted to, they wouldn't have been able to free themselves. My men managed to get clear, but the rebels were...eradicated."

Not killed, eradicated. I felt cold. I felt ill to my very center. My father was a terrorist who traded his family for his passion. Why hadn't I known? Had my own blind lust for power nearly sent me on the same path? My father wasn't just dead, there had been a UV bomb. He was reduced to ash, if there was even any ash left. I withdrew my hand and pressed it to my stomach. The world felt very far away. My ears felt as if they were underwater. I was going to be physically ill. My father was dead, and it was no better than suicide. I didn't think I could care, then. I had given up when I first knew, but now it seemed real. My senses returned with a jarring, ripping sound from the center of my being and it took me a moment to realize I had sobbed and I was having trouble breathing.

Bram didn't bother keeping a businesslike composure. He knelt down in front of me and pulled me off the chair, wrapping my body in his arms. The air wasn't helping. My chest was crushed under weight that as he pried it away I realized was my arms, my fists were pressed against my heart as if the pressure could stop the pain like any physical wound. No, it had been seven years since I thought I lost one of my parents and the pain, despite the anger, was always the same. I remembered standing on the hill. Did I say goodbye? Did I tell them how profusely I loved them? My memory was failing. Whether they had become monsters or whether I was the monster no longer mattered, because my _Daddy_ was gone. My father who calmed my mother and let me go be with Bram, and drove me all the way across the country because he was likely sure that he would never see me again, my father who had calmed my mothers shouting outbursts and held me as a little girl. I learned boy's things on my father's knee as a child and he let me do whatever I saw fit. Maybe he knew that I would ascend them. Maybe he knew that he would fall harder and faster than Icarus. Either way, one of the people I loved the most in the world was no longer in it. Whether he had made it to heaven or hell was irrelevant, because he no longer existed in my world.

There was a very warm touch to my face, and then I realized that Dracula was beside me too. I must've been crying as if I'd been killed myself, because he was wiping away my tears and trying to soothe me. His tender, Romanian whispers did very little to fix my heart. I wanted to shoot up and strike out, call him a murderer and waste the last of my energy with blame, but I couldn't find it in myself to do so. He was my best friend's father, a friend of my own. He gave honest opinions and at times told rude jokes. He was not to blame and neither was my father. Every story had so many points of view that no one was ever right and no one was ever wrong, and for a moment, all I could do was curse the god that gave us the will to be monsters and men at the same time.

...

She had heard my crying and come downstairs while Bram was showing Dracula out. He thanked him profusely, since the elder vampire politely refused to accept apologies. He did the same, though, and put my husband on equal ground with him. Maybe it was because we had our own little castle and lived very similar to the way he did, but Dracula respected him in his own home, and that sold Bram on undying trust for him.

"What's going on?" Zofie asked from the bottom step. Her yellow pajamas were ruffled with sleep and her skeleton frog was still clutched in her arm.

The men exchanged glances and Bram opened his arms for his daughter. She didn't rush to them like an ordinary child, instead she stared accusingly at the intruder that she did not know. Her father knelt before her and took her little hands, meeting her eyes directly. He addressed her like an adult, so much so that it must've been that moment when Dracula began respecting her as he did us.

"Your grandpa was in an accident," Bram said gently, "He's dead now."

"Mommy's grandpa?" she murmured.

"Mommy's father," he replied, "Your grandpa. You've never met him."

She just nodded. In her innocence, she didn't understand the sorrow she was supposed to feel for someone she had never met. She just knew, as she always just knew, that it was an upsetting thing and shouldn't happen. She nodded, empathizing and understanding beyond the measure of most adults, and gently kissed his cheek, "It's okay, Daddy."

"I know, princess," he murmured, "Why don't you go sit with your mother?"

She nodded and left them, giving Dracula time to leave before Valentine arrived. As soon as he had seen the car on the drive up, he knew. He parked outside and he dashed in to us, hardly bothering to shut the doors in his wake. "What happened?"

My daughter's presence had relaxed me enough to keep the worst of my grief at bay, but my jaw still set when Valentine entered. Bram's arm draped around me, his hand resting on Zofie's back while she laid in my lap and allowed me to toy with her hair. Valentine circled the couch and looked me directly in the face, his eyes desperate and his so-red lips quaking, "Gory, what happened?"

A fresh set of tears rolled down my face. "He's dead."

"Who?" he murmured, shakily.

"Dad," I whispered.

There was both a sense of relief and a sense of grief from him at the very same time; of course he was glad his mother was alright. My mother had always been more of his mother than mine, but at the same time, I knew he'd adored my father as much as his own. He'd been through the grief before. He sunk onto the edge of the table and looked at me. I rested my head against the back of the sofa and tried desperately to alleviate the ache in my chest. He reached out after a moment and placed his hand on my knee. I didn't respond, so he leaned in and pried me away from my husband to wrap his arms around me tightly. It was the most affection that I had received since my wedding day, and I clung to Valentine as if he were some kind of answer. I buried my face in his shoulder and let loose a sound that was contained there. He smoothed my hair and I felt the warm wetness of his tears in it. I let him cry as he held me. I let him sink down closer and take refuge in the fact that he wasn't alone in his grief. I kissed his cheeks gently, brushing away his tears as they fell with increasing speed. How long had he been questing for someone to pay attention to him beyond his faults? How long had we grieved alone for ourselves and for our lives when we could've been supporting each other?

I brushed my fingers over his cheek as if he were my son, not my sibling, and I let him feel unconditionally loved for the first time in our entire relationship. There was a celestial limit to my kindness, and I had been giving it to people who were not entirely worthy of it. I kissed his cheeks and smoothed his hair, and when dawn broke in the East and he was still crying, I watched Bram rise to call Cupid and tell her that Valentine wouldn't be coming in to work today. It was the first time I had heard the words in seven years, and yet they made my stomach so tight that Zofie clutched my shirt in understanding. We _had a death in the family_.


	10. Chapter Ten

_Chapter Ten_

The sky felt the urge to mourn with her as it had done many a time before. The time she had thought her mother dead, it had done nothing but pour for nearly a month. The worst part for her came in breaking her code of silence and contacting her relatives; they, too, had been contacted by Dracula. They had ceased contact with her parents before our wedding, and they pledged themselves loyal to Dracula as often as they possibly could. There would be no funeral. They didn't see it fit for a traitor like her father, or subsequently for her mother.

I didn't tell her what Dracula had told me. I didn't want her to have reason to fear him or oppose him as they did. She wanted to contact her mother to get her to turn herself in, but I knew two reasons why she would never be allowed. At this point, since we were so close to Dracula, her mother would likely tell her what she wanted to hear and use Gory for the leverage against the king that he needed. Secondly, whether she did or didn't, she would be killed. That was not something I wanted her to live with.

She laid on the sofa in the den and watched the seasons of _American Horror_ that we had. Zofie, despite her youth, was allowed to watch the at-times-disturbing show anyway since it was her mother's favorite. Valentine sat, catatonic, in the chair adjacent to his sister and his niece. He propped his chin up on his hand and he sat, staring off at the drawn curtains of the outer doors and likely watching the rain pour, alleviate some, and pour again. The usually cheery summer day had darkened with the thick, gray-blue clouds to the dim of evening.

I stood on the front steps under the overhang and I smoked. I hardly think she acknowledged my habit, but I had picked it up toward the end of senior year when I needed the relief from the stress of her pregnancy. It was with the same grief and longing for stress relief that I leaned on the wet, white stone and smoked cigarette after cigarette down to the very nub. I threw down the smouldering butts, ground them with my shoe and kicked them into the mulch beneath the bushes. I had gotten through a consecutive four when the Escalade pulled up. Exhaling smoke, I watched Draculaura pull up into the driveway in front of the garage and leap out. She wore a little lavender sundress, her heels tottering in the rush of water. She clasped her clutch purse over her head and slammed the door shut, desperately clicking her keys. After watching her flounder pathetically for a moment, I descended the stairs and went to meet her. It was pouring and my hair grew quickly damp, the wetness soaking into my shirt and the edges of my pants, but she seemed grateful for the support.

"You're going to ruin those pretty shoes," I teased in an elevated tone, giving her my arm to keep her steady.

"How is she?" she replied in the same volume, dashing along at my side. When she was safely under the overhang, she caught her breath and turned to me. Her hair hung in straight, soaked strings down her face and the edges of her mascara beaded darkly. "Is she alright?"

"She's been crying since." I murmured, "We caught a little while of sleep, but she's hardly moved since he came to deliver the news. She's been on a soap-opera marathon since nine."

Despite being soaked and cold, Draculaura headed in ahead of me. Her dress stuck to her body, made darker in spots by the rain, and her shoes were thoroughly soaked. She paused in the front hall for me to shut the door, but I stopped her before she could go into the living room.

"Leave them by the vent." I crossed the room to the closet and took one of Gory's warm, cotton wraps from the closet before crossing back to her. Her pink-painted lips turned up slightly. She slipped from her shoes and allowed me to drape the wrap around her arms, to which she kissed my cheek and surely left a mark. "Thank you," she whispered, "for loving her and being so kind to me."

I shook my head, "You never have to thank me for loving her."

She clutched the warm cloth to her body and padded across the room, into the den. She was soaked and as visibly miserable as the rest of them, but she seemed to be the only sound in their silence. She moved to the sofa and sat beside Gory, unwrapping the cord of her little lavender clutch from her wrist and placing it on the coffee table before wrapping her arms and her wrap around Gory's body.

I had imagined earlier in the day what we might've written to our parents if we had written to them when we had just met. Zofie looked up at her aunt, her little mouth quirking slightly and her eyes warming, and she finally sat up as if freeing herself from a spell. "Daddy, can we have something to eat?"

I placed my hands on Gory's shoulders and massaged them gently, "Sweetheart, are you ready to eat?"

She shook her head, swallowing thickly as if she were going to be ill. I leaned over the sofa, tightening the afghan around her soft pajamas and kissing her softly. She shied away. Zofie shifted slightly, allowing me to circle the sofa and sit beside her mother. I wrapped her delicate figure in my arms and pulled her tightly against my chest, "Gory, you need to eat."

"I can't," she whispered, "I can't believe this. I can't...I just can't."

Draculaura rubbed her knee softly, "I'm so, so sorry."

It was as if her voice was the first thing he had heard in a very long time. Valentine budged, tearing his eyes away from the television to her. "Don't apologize," he said, his voice quiet and dark, "Neither you or your father are to blame." He sat up slowly and finally looked Gory in the face. "We were young and stupid once. They tried to make us like them very quietly. You know that. The supremacy, the conquest, that was all them. The minute you broke away, you knew it was just a stupid little dream."

"Stop," she whispered.

"They brought this on themselves, for what reason I will never know, but they did this to themselves. What should make you sick is how far they went to take other people to the grave with them, not the fact that they're dead." He rose slowly as if he were awakening himself.

"Shut up!" she snapped. I grasped her arms, but her eyes were blazing. She wouldn't be contained long. "They're not both dead!"

"They're dead to me!" he shouted. Genuine pain filled her gaze, but no matter how much the words hurt, she didn't turn away from them. "And they ought to be dead to you."

She stood, as grateful as pouring liquid. Her eyes burned with betrayal. "They are our parents, no matter what they've done."

"_The blood of the covenant is stronger than the water of the womb,_" he replied. "I love you, Gory, but if you became like them...I'd kill you myself." She stared into his eyes and nodded once. He sighed, raising his hands and brushing them gently along her upper arms, "Come on, don't take offense to that."

Her hand snapped up and she slapped him as forcefully as she possibly could. He pushed her away, holding his face, shock plastered on his features. "Come on, don't take offense to that." She turned on her heel and stalked out. Zofie hopped down to follow, throwing me a glance as if to ask if I were coming. Draculaura rose, shedding the wrap and taking gentle hold of Valentine's hand. She could tend to him.

I followed my girls into the kitchen, where Gory finally dropped the blanket she'd been nestled under on the chair. Zofie had climbed up and allowed her mother to furiously compose food, watching with her innocent interest as she sliced and stabbed things that I was sure she was envisioning as Valentine. I gently pried the knife out of her hand, completely unsurprised when it took a little more force than necessary. Her eyes lifted and met my own, blazing with a war of emotions that I hadn't seen so vividly since we were teenagers. With my arms around her, I kissed her softly.

"Calm down."

Her eyes fell shut and she leaned on the counter, forcing me to pause cooking to tend to her. My fingers wrapped through hers, my arms following suit as hers folded across her midsection. "I can't believe he'd say that."

I sighed, nuzzling into her neck to calm her. "You need to be honest with yourself, my love. Your mother won't get through this alive. Dracula isn't going to fall over a tiny group like theirs, and if your father is any inclination..."

She pulled away, washed her hands and left the room. Zofie stared at me with exasperation, "Don't leave me to fend for myself, I'll starve."

I quickly finished putting together the meat for beginning dinner and tucked it in the oven to cook. Instead of letting her spoil her dinner, I set a few raw slices before her and washed my hands. She waited patiently while I grabbed her some fruit and kissed her forehead, "I'm sorry, it's just-"

"A difficult time," she replied, "I know, Daddy. Go do what you need to do. I was joking."

I kissed her forehead warmly again, leaving her to eat while I dashed upstairs after her mother.

Gory sat at the foot of our bed, clutching one of the throw pillows to her chest. I crawled into bed beside her and kissed her neck and jaw. Slowly, moment after moment, she uncurled and let the pillow fall limply to the mattress. I wrapped her vulnerable body in my arms, tugging her closer and pressing my lips to her skin over and over again. Her breath released in a slow exhale. A pair of delicate tears ran down her face. "I'm tired," she whispered, "I'm just so tired of dealing with him. I can't do this, Bram...I can't listen to them speak so badly of my parents." Her fingers slipped into my hair as my mouth dipped to her collarbone. She didn't resist, only welcomed the worship as I knew she would. She could pretend that she didn't need the affection at a time like this, but I knew. It had been too long to try not to know. They had been horrible to her, and her defense of them was borderline Stockholm Syndrome. Still, she began to give to her emotions as my fingers traced her sides. She squirmed, clutching my hair nearly violently. It ached, but it was a pleasant ache. My lips on her skin had given her peace, and for the moment, that was enough.

She slid her arms around my neck and tugged me upward. I kissed her, feeling the bump of her glasses, the warm, wetness of her tears, and with an arm wrapped tightly around her, I raised my other hand and wiped them away. She sobbed against my lips, kissing me until I didn't think she could breathe.

"It's okay to grieve," I murmured to her, "Just remember, last time you did, we had Zofie."

She smacked my chest and sniffled, "Too soon, you ass."

I chuckled and placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, holding her until she had calmed.

...

Valentine sunk into the chair, trying not to pay attention to Draculaura as she fussed over him. With her little hands attempting to pry his fingers from his cheek, he was finally forced to smack her hands away, "Draculaura!"

She straightened and smacked his hand in return, "I'm having none of that, Valentine. I was trying to be kind to you. It's no wonder Gory is so fed up with you."

"Shut up," he exhaled, the shock of the harsh hit delivered by his sister's hand finally wearing off.

"Fine," she snapped, "I can't stand you sometimes."

She sat on the sofa, still surprisingly close while he ran his fingers through his shaggy hair and tried to dispel the lingering ache and burn of anger. As the rain slowly began to lessen, she glanced toward him. "I didn't mean that."

"I know," he replied, "You wouldn't have kept me in your mind for four hundred years if you couldn't."

She moved slightly closer, her eyes dark and warm, "You made me feel like a princess. It's hard to forget that."

He sighed. His eyes were wrought with sorrow as he reached out and caught her hand. "You have to believe me when I say it would've been impossible to hurt you in the end."

His words hung between them for a moment before she smoothed her fingers over his hand. "Like the others?"

"It was a game," he murmured. "It was a stupid, childish game. And I'm very sorry I was dishonest with you."

She nodded, rising slowly and releasing his hand. He didn't budge until she massaged his shoulder slowly. The action was surprisingly gentle, erasing his tension one gentle caress at a time.

"Thank you," she whispered. "If you ever need a friend, you know I'm here."

He took her hand and pressed it gently to his lips. Clasping it in both of his, he sighed, "I know. And I can't possibly love you more for it." If the words were meant to waive her resolve any, they didn't work. She simply patted his hair down and gave him a small, gentle kiss on the forehead. "I know. Thank you...and I forgive you."


	11. Chapter Eleven

_Chapter Eleven_

The stages of grief were resonating through the household. Valentine managed to overcome his visible grief in a matter of hours, Zofie's only displacement was her displeasure at her mother's, and while Gory spent quite a bit more time in bed, I was left to myself. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant thing; solitude was the only way I managed to get things done nowadays. Valentine had gone to work his second shift, promising quietly that he would be home late, and I loaned him a little cash to go out and enjoy himself. The more time he spent away from Gory at the moment would be for the better.

An incoming call from Sean broke my concentration on examining a piece my employer had sent me to authenticate. I sighed as I clicked the answering icon. "I'm working, Sean."

"Is it true?" he asked. I could hear our relatives in the background; of course it would've taken a trip home to make him return to the state of affairs outside of his self-imposed bubble.

"That I have a job?" I replied. It hadn't taken long to rule the piece a fake and email my employer my veto. If _Sherlock_ hadn't existed, I didn't know where my skills would be by now.

"So you didn't hear either." Sean's tone went from disbelieving to the familiar brotherly boast that promised I wouldn't be able to shut him up for time to come. I nearly ended our conversation then.

"It really depends on what _it_ is."

"They just brought in Gory's mum in the royal court. The rebels are gone, Bram. The whole thing's been squashed. She got stupid without her husband, an' they just fell." The pride in his voice for our people should've been too immense to ignore. I kept working regardless. "Lovely."

"Didja even hear me?" he replied, "D' ya know what I said?"

"I heard you," I replied, "The only thing is, you have to be wrong. The only way she would come in now is if it were part of a plan."  
If knowing Gory was any inclination as to knowing her family, then I knew them well. Grief or no grief, they were still calculating and lethal, especially when driven. Belfry Prep had been too great of an inclination toward that. I abandoned my work for a while and carried my laptop with me into the kitchen. The house was so quiet with our female residents, and Sammy, napping. It put me off. I pulled back the curtains in the kitchen to let in the fog-glazed sun as I went about finding some leftovers to microwave.

"Y' don't think she slipped up and brought 'em down? I can send ya the footage."

"Please and thank you," I replied. I put on some leftover pasta and clicked the incoming link. I turned down the volume on my computer and on the video, but one thing stood out immediately; that woman wasn't Gory's mother.

"I'm going to have to call you back," I muttered. I didn't give him time to reply, I signed off and shut down and tucked my laptop under my arm. Taking the stairs two at a time, I burst into Zofie's room and gathered her and our pets, "Zo, get up."

She stirred slowly, blinking up at me, "Wha-?"

"Take this," I ordered, shoving my laptop into her hands. She did, her eyes opening widely with obvious disorientation. Her heart was pounding, as was mine. I grabbed a thick coat and brought her downstairs. She was staring at me. I set them on the floor and whispered, "Stay here. Put the laptop on the desk, grab Sammy and Sabbath and get under it, do you understand?"

"Daddy, what's wrong?" she whispered, hurriedly putting on her coat.

"Do it," I whispered. I locked the door from the inside and blazed back to our room. Gory's eyes were closed, but from her stiffened muscles I knew she wasn't entirely asleep. I shook her, snapping her back to full consciousness. She pulled her glasses on without hesitation. "We have to go."

"What's happening?" she asked, throwing back the covers and stepping into her woven boots.

"We have to go, right now. Your mother is not in Europe. There was some kind of plan-" It would be the second time in our lives we had been under siege. I stopped and listened, and her hands gripped my arms as she listened too. It was piercingly silent. The birds had gone silent. The wind, it seemed, had gone silent. The microwave beeped downstairs. She glanced to me with tears in her eyes and I nodded. I lowered my tone, caressing her cheek slowly, "They're out there. They know we're here, but they don't know about Zofie. She's safe, now all we can do is keep her that way. I'm going to go downstairs and we're going to eat. The window is open. They'll be able to see us." Tears were streaming down her cheeks and I brushed them away as best I could. "When they feel safe, they'll come to us."

"Then?" she whispered.

"I want you to tell Draculaura right now what is going on. I want you to tell her that when they feel comfortable with us, you'll give her some kind of signal."

She looked at me with fully understanding eyes. "The blood of the covenant," she whispered.

"I'm sorry. I wish there was another way."

She nodded and wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing her body to mine and squeezing my shoulders as tightly as she possibly could. I wrapped her in my arms and buried my face into her sleep-warmed hair. The scent of her resembled sunflowers and spice, and I committed it to memory in record time. I wanted to take in every bit of her, just in case, but we were limited to the way it felt to be pressed against each other and the softness of her skin. The gentleness of her pulse against my own. I tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and whispered, "I swear to you, I am going to keep you and Zofie safe. Don't argue with me this time."

She didn't budge until she felt ready. When her eyes lifted to mine, they were full of defiance. I chuckled lightly and pressed my lips to hers softly; the one thing she would never be capable of was listening to someone else.

She headed downstairs with me and in the absence of sound, I feared we'd go insane. She took the memo paper off the side of the freezer and wrote a very long and detailed note to slip to Zofie. Our plan would work; even if they knew she existed, she wouldn't be their target. She was my child, Gory was her mother's. She wrote in her delicate scrawl at the top to confuse anyone with sight enough to see before folding it, leaving just a hint of the words _shopping list_ visible. She forced a little smile as she slipped into the invisible interior. With my back to the window, I assembled enough food to be considered a meal. She joined me after a moment, slipping into the seat beside me. There were tears in her eyes as she whispered, "I don't know how long I can manage this."

I kissed her and brought her closer to me, "I know." We sat in an uneasy silence, my arm pressing her to me. She picked at her food with the appetite of a baby bird. I hoped it was enough to come off as grief. The sounds of life were slowly returning from behind us as small mammals breathed a sigh of relief, and yet in the withdrawal, it only seemed to sharpen the knowledge that we were facing more than one foe. Gory began texting, her breaths deep and increasingly sure. Gently, she tucked her phone into the pocket of her sleep pants and kissed my cheek.

The bell rang, and for a heartbeat's length, it was the only sound in the world. I stood and released her gently. Her eyes followed me out of the room and though she couldn't see much beyond that, I knew she was listening to my approach. With a slow exhale, I tugged open the outer door.

Post-apocalyptic movies were suddenly not so far fetched. There were six of them, only six, and they looked like hell. Gory's mother was potentially the worst for wear, but she still smiled despite her obvious disrepair. "Hello, Bram."

"Mrs. Fangtell," I replied. The majority of their appearance took root in a fine, gray coating of ash that lingered on most of their skin, sometimes mingled with earthen stains. "You'll understand if I don't invite you in."

She smiled slowly, "Of course. We wouldn't want to put Gory at any more risk than she needs to be, would we?"

I held firmly on the door. "You can't cross without invitation, regardless. You make a move, I shut the door. You can only do so much from the outside."

She motioned to the others as if their presence had intimidated anyone, but they stood down like soldiers regardless. "I just want to talk."

"Then we talk outside."

She stepped aside to allow me out, but not before I heard Gory rise. I pulled the door shut behind me and knew that for the most part, I was sealed out. The locks were automatic on the outside door; without my key or my invitation, no one was getting past, and I had neither.

"I just want to ask her to come with us," she said, leading the others off my steps. "It's no secret that she's close to Dracula. Maybe he'll listen to his people if one of his own is on the other side."

"She's not one of you. She's chosen her own side."

There was a flicker of defiant rage. She reached for one of her weapons but then shied away, turning back to me on her heel the way a bargaining teenager would address their parents. "Maybe we can talk this over. Mother to daughter."

"The time for talking is over," I heard over my shoulder, "In the words of Clint Eastwood, _get off my lawn."_

Something had changed in Gory completely. Although she had proven herself to back up her big talk before, it was the first time she had openly backed up anything Valentine had said.

Her mother just smiled, holding up her hands in surrender. As she stepped up to my side, I wrapped my arm around her and drew her just a bit closer. They watched her, waiting to see if she would strike her own mother down. My fingers ran lightly through the ends of her hair, coaxing her to do whatever she saw necessary. We saw the flashing lights before they pulled in to the yard, and without lowering the revolver in her hands, Gory met her mother's eyes.

"You made sure I had nothing in this family when you got my father killed." Her mother's composure fell, slowly and then completely. She didn't blink. "Don't ask for my help. Don't ask for my sympathy. I don't care."

"Gory," her mother breathed, "I'm your mother."

As Dracula's cars pulled up, she let her aim drop. "My mother died seven years ago."


	12. Chapter Twelve

_Chapter Twelve_

None of us could sleep that night.

I ended up sitting in the kitchen at half after two AM with a bowl of ice cream and a lump in my throat while I watched it melt. I hadn't lied; that was the hardest thing I had to cope with. Valentine would be distraught, but Dracula hadn't killed her right away. He spared me that much in taking the rebels into his custody. Apparently I hadn't lied when I said we'd take care of our own, either. Human law did not apply to the people opposing him, whether countries could cry for it or not.  
I felt sick and warm. It had to be fifty or sixty, but that was only because of the late hour. I wanted to go lay in bed and watch things, but I didn't have the focus for it. I didn't even have the focus to lose myself in my ice cream, let alone a book or something of the like.

"She's finally asleep," Bram murmured as he walked in. He came to me and took my face gently in his hands, kissing me fully on the mouth as he did earlier in our bedroom. I pulled him closer, refusing to let go until I had sorted my mind. He drew away much too quickly. "Are you alright?"

"No," I replied honestly. I leaned up and began nibbling his ear, drawing him closer. The night was blocked out from our own little dimly lit world; nothing else had to cope with us. He didn't have to cope with me, but he did for no reason greater than his love for me. My fangs grazed his skin and awoke the soft, ferocious snarl that reverberated through my chest and comforted me. I caressed his hair, tracing my mouth down his neck inch by inch. He caressed my back, allowing me to shower him with affection.

"I'm guessing you don't want to talk about it," he teased.

I shook my head, slipping my fingers from his silken locks to undo the top button on his shirt and shower his collarbone in kisses. He shifted against me, enduring the merciless affection as best as he could without giving in to his own desires. His fingers ran slowly through my hair, allowing me to continue my path until my lips reached his heart. They stopped there, the strong thrum of blood beneath my lips almost enough to remind me that I had once been more human than the others. His fingers wound in my hair and he drew my face back gently. I didn't have the will to resist. Our eyes met as he released his hold and he kissed me warmly. I had never felt like a teenager, but while his mouth was on mine, I felt restored.

He tugged my bowl a bit closer and withdrew to take a spoonful of ice cream and hold it to my lips. I giggled, accepting it gratefully and giving him yet another warm, chocolate-flavored kiss. "You really ought to learn how badly my self control is with you," he murmured, his hands tracing my sides while his eyes appraised my figure. I burned with love. I bared my neck to him, but he began where I had. He nibbled my ear and traced his mouth slowly downward, so painfully slow that I was forced to focus on every brush of his mouth, every stray touch of fang. I wasn't as strong as him. I moaned breathlessly and bit my lower lip, drawing him closer with my fingers wound in his shirt. I wanted him to do something more intimate than sex. He traced his tongue slowly over my vein as if he understood. My heart was pounding, pressed to his chest as he tugged me to my feet from my chair. His hand rested firmly against my lower back while the other lovingly brushed my hair away from the spot he wanted to sink his fangs into. For a moment, we were young and in love under the blessing of our parents. I wondered when it had all gone wrong.

His fangs pierced my skin swiftly, earning a little yelp of surprise before it trailed off into a sigh of bliss. A non-vampire wouldn't understand how blissful it felt to be bitten. It was to relinquish your complete control of self to another person, to trust them with your complete well-being. He fed a bit from me before removing his fangs and tracing his tongue lovingly over the wound he'd created. I was practically limp in his arms, my only real grasp being my fingers wrapped in the collar of his shirt. When he had sealed the wound and cleaned my skin to his satisfaction, he drew away. I watched him lick his lips suggestively and melted into my chair, "You're wicked."

"I'm hungry," he purred, allowing the double entendre to remain obvious. It couldn't have been more so unless he "accidentally" spilled my ice cream down my neck. I shook my head, taking the bowl back and taking a spoonful of the melted portion for myself. "You're just going to have to wait until I finish, aren't you?"

He pulled up the chair beside me and nudged his knee under mine. I propped up my legs against his, moving closer to him until we were practically in each other's laps.

"She worries about you," he murmured while he toyed with my hair. "She's never seen you cry like that, and then to go right into combat mode...I admit, it was a little unnerving for me too."

I ran my free hand over his chest in as much reassurance as I had. When the bowl was finished, I rinsed it and returned to him, climbing onto his lap. He smirked, gently grasping my hips as I leaned in. "I love you," I murmured as I lightly nipped his lower lip. He captured my lips in a kiss that outweighed the warmth of the sun. His hand slid under me, supporting me to stand, but he paused. He paused and groped gently, causing shivers to run down my spine. He ran the touch down to the inside of my knee, boosting my body a bit closer to his.

The outermost door swung open and I heard Valentine fall in. Bram sighed as he drew back, rubbing his temple in irritation. "Can I kill him?" he muttered, "Just on the premise that he is constantly getting in the way of my time with you."

"You've had eleven years," I teased, "you also have eternity."

"Eternity is not long enough," he replied. As I slid from his lap to the floor, he resigned and got up as well. We entered the main room to my brother on his hands and knees attempting to get up. The world must've been spinning, because he had quite the difficult time. Finally, I took him under the arm and helped him to his feet, but it didn't seem to protect him from his invisible windstorm any either. He clutched on to me like I was the only thing fully grounded in the room. Bram got the door with a chuckle that refused to cease after it had been made. Valentine's fingers wound in my shirt and his steps were uneven as he tried to keep pace.

"Didja hear?" he slurred, "They caught 'r Mahm..."

"I was there," I replied, tugging him up the stairs one staggering step at a time.

"Now we don't...got no_body._ Nope. Jus' you...an' me..."

"That's a lovely sentiment Val, pick up your feet."

He grabbed the railing with a grin and swung himself up the last few steps, but he didn't quite get traction on the rug and the only thing stopping him from falling back down the stairs was my quick catch of his upper body. I pushed him onto the landing properly, to which he responded with laughter. "Wee!"

"He's lost his fucking mind," Bram laughed. I shot him a look and attempted to pull Val to his feet, but he simply dragged himself after me across the floor.

"Valentine, I am not playing games with you!" I finally shouted, exasperated beyond belief.

"Ah-ma playin' games with _you!_" he replied, grabbing both of my hands. "Pull me I wanna be a train."

My husband was in the throes of laughter, but he walked up behind us and stepped over my inebriated brother anyway, "I'll play with you, Val."

He tried to return himself to his corny accent, but ended up breaking his voice with laughter as he addressed Bram, "Shake me but baby just don't break me-_AAHAHA."_

"I can't do this," I muttered as Bram gave him a hard tug that started pulling him to his feet. Valentine tried to drop, trying to resist the force exerted on him to no avail. He draped forward and Bram dragged him to his room. I followed just far enough to hear Valentine land with an audible thump on the bed and then roll off onto the floor. Bram just shook his head and left him there.

"I can see why he can't keep a girlfriend," he said, attempting to bring our intimacy back to what it had been. I checked in on Val anyway and found him passed out on the floor, already fast asleep. At least he was on his stomach, so he probably wouldn't die from the side effects of alcohol poisoning. Still, I picked him up and dragged him into his bathroom, much to my husband's little patience. I left him there on the tile, where he could properly reach the necessary hangover supplies.

I barely had a mood to speak of as we headed back to our bedroom. I checked in on Zofie and found her fast asleep, her face pressed into Sabbath's back and Sammy sleeping on her exposed toes. Bram was already undressing for the night as I shut our bedroom door behind myself. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be," he replied, "It's not like it's the first time and it won't be the last."

I crawled into bed with him as he shed his shirt and silenced him with a warm kiss. I settled in behind him and began gently massaging his neck, "We don't have to pass it up, you know. I'm just sorry all the trouble seems to come from me. My asinine brother stumbles in drunk at three AM, my parents are international terrorists, my family wants nothing to do with any of us because they're worried I've turned out like her..."

His eyes were closed as I continued on to his shoulders. "You're a blessing," he murmured, "You're a goddess if one has ever been earthbound."

I scoffed, "Because I could give a woman unrealistic expectations."

"You should," he replied, "You're the sexiest being in all of creation, and it's not fair how good you are at everything."

I focused my attention on the spot where his spine met his shoulders, a place typical of stress for him. He sat up straight, melting back into my touch as if I were actually doing something to relieve the tension any. "Like that! Bloody hell, you're perfect, now take the compliment before I throw you over my knees and prove it to you."

I giggled and continued down his back until he simply laid down against me, ending my massaging. His head propped up against my elbow gave me the ability to gaze at him the way I wanted to all the time. He lifted his fingers and caressed my cheek, bringing my lips down to his. "If I could spend every minute kissing you," he murmured, punctuated with a kiss, "I would be very happy."

"We would also never get anything done," I replied.

He shrugged without properly budging. I caressed his muscles lightly and slowly began lowering him into bed. He finished stripping as I began, and the warmth of his eyes was limitless.

"Toss me your shirt," I replied.

He did, and I slid it on over myself like a nightdress. There was no way to put into words the way he looked at me when I wore his clothes, just simply that he looked at me the way every woman wants to be looked at by a man, and I felt nothing but absolute and complete devotion in return.

"You really are the most beautiful woman ever to exist," he breathed.

I blushed and crawled into bed beside him. He tugged up the blankets and clicked off the lamp while I settled in against his shoulder. "I don't believe you," I murmured.

He let out a breathy laugh, "I never said you had to, but it is true." He said it like the sky was blue. Then I guess blue was purple to me, because it didn't seem like we were looking at the same sky...at least, not all of the same sky.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

_Chapter Thirteen_

Draculaura climbed out of the back seat with Zofie tucked safely in her arm. I gave Bram a gentle kiss before ducking out myself, "Don't be late."

He smiled, "We won't. You girls have fun."

Clawd waved from the back seat to his fiancee and my daughter as I slid out. I shut the door, returning their wave for a moment before they pulled away and left the three of us to occupy ourselves in front of Salem Hills Mall. "It's nice that the boys wanted to do something together," Draculaura said, wandering ahead of us to peek in the window of the restaurant just outside the mall. It had been a week since my father's death and my mother's subsequent capture, and while Valentine had taken it upon his killer hangover to avoid alcohol for the rest of his existence, my grieving process had been much slower. Like all grief, it seemed best to combat with food and shopping, something Draculaura had leapt at the chance to do. After being a recluse for this long because of his job, Bram had even jumped at the opportunity to do something with the other males. They were going fishing at a spot not too far from the house, so I could only imagine what river monsters would be waiting for us at home when they called it quits.  
While Draculaura strode inside to make us a reservation, I helped Zofie up onto the bench outside. She leaned over its back and sniffed the flowers that matched her canary yellow headband. Withdrawing with a giggle, she touched her nose where the fuzzy side of a bumblebee had grazed it and broke into a toothy grin. "It takes twelve of you to make one spoonful of honey, and I'm very grateful Mister Bee. I _love_ honey." She wore the little polka dotted tea dress that Natasha had bought her for her birthday, the hem swishing cutely around her knees. Her socks were neatly gathered at her ankles and tucked delicately into her shiny black shoes. I sat beside her, unable to resist the urge to smile that accompanied time with her. She had been slathered in protective sunscreen that still left her skin a little shiny, and her little girl chapstick had been put on with pride. A pair of passing little cyclops girls with their mother turned toward her in the same reverent way she drew attention from everyone else, myself included. If a perfect child had ever been born, Zofie was it. The breeze stirred her pin-straight golden locks and her gemstone eyes focused on me again. She walked across the bench and sat down with a ceremonious smooth of her skirt, "Can we go to Build-A-Bear?"

"Of course we can," I cooed to her, "Just don't let me forget to get your father a little something." I leaned in a bit closer and whispered, "And a few wedding presents for your aunt."

She broke into a devious little grin and motioned zipping her lips. I tickled her, gracing the air with the joyful tinkle of bell-like laughter that rang from my daughter's mouth. Wrapping her tightly in my arms and lightly pressing my lips to her forehead, I glanced up and found myself even happier than before. It seemed as if maybe the entire world had been brought to peace.  
Jonas and the woman I assumed to be his wife walked hand in hand with a little boy bearing a bobbing, lemon drop balloon tied to his wrist by ribbon. His wife glowed with her obvious pregnancy, and as they ascended the curb, he noticed me. He smiled with the joy that I had seen only once before on a rainy battlefield, but no phantom pain came at the memory. I was filled with warmth, my Zofie nestled against me and shyly glancing at the slightly-younger boy.

"Gory," Jonas breathed. His wife was lovely, with chestnut brown curls that tumbled down to her shoulders and sat in tight coils that opposed her relaxed mannerisms. With one hand supporting the roundness at her waist, she reached the other out delicately. I grasped it, "I'm glad to finally meet you."

"Jonas has told me quite a bit about you," she replied with a warm, beaming smile, "You've given him a job for the past six years."

He rolled his eyes as if he'd heard it many times and rested his hand gently on her back, "This is Lucy and our son, Kale."

The little boy seemed to realize he was being addressed and turned toward us. He had wide, carmine eyes and rich dark hair, his skin betraying a bit of Mediterranean heritage. He looked at Zofie and smiled shyly, and she smiled shyly in return. "I like your balloon," she murmured.

"Thanks," he muttered in reply. "You're pretty."

She went red, likely knowing it would be rude to hide her face but still floundering for a place to look. Lucy beamed. "How old is she?"

"Six," I replied, "Yours?"

"Almost five," she replied with a laugh, "The one on the way is a girl."

"Congratulations." I glanced at Jonas, trying not to tease him with my eyes. "Apparently you wasted no time."

He shrugged. I couldn't recall a time when he'd been this happy, in his angry, twisted way or otherwise. Draculaura came out and gasped, "Kale!"

He went red, a feat Zofie seemed pleased with. Lucy released his hands to allow Draculaura to scoop him up and kiss his face. She sat beside Zofie on the bench while Laura swayed, the little boy tucked against her chest. Though they hadn't been close in high school like I would've liked to think Jonas and I had been, I could tell they shared history with him working for her father. He smiled at me, the look in his eyes more sane than I had ever seen before. He was no longer an enigma; he was a young father with his young bride, a lovely son and another baby on the way. He had a steady job and a happy life, and he had properly avenged his late family. I couldn't help but smile so happily in reply.

Laura passed the little boy to his father and beamed, "I noticed you guys had reservations for this afternoon, and-"

"No," Lucy said with a laugh, "I've been saving up for weeks to afford this place."

"Well, save up to afford something else," she teased and gave the very pregnant vampiress a hug, "Your dinner's on me."

My best friend's generosity clearly knew no bounds. She was embraced profusely by the both of them and quietly slipped a dollar bill in Kale's overall pocket for the little arcade in the mall. He beamed knowingly at her. Enthusiastically, we said our goodbyes and parted ways while in the throes of a happiness that rang with finality. She led the way into the mall while I carried Zofie, chatting vibrantly about how she'd met Jonas at the end of high school and he'd begged her to get him a job with her father. Apparently, he had become next-to-adopted in the Dracula family since our beloved king had no sons and Jonas had no other family to speak of. I smiled slightly at the knowledge that my friends had paved the way for him to get a proper education, and that he'd met Lucy outside a Mumford and Sons concert. He'd helped her hop the fence and followed suit, and neither of them had been caught by security. Naturally, it progressed from there. I couldn't believe all of our luck. She led us into the bridal stores and picked out everything, begging for my input.

"You're just having a small wedding, aren't you?" I asked while she nattered over how she already had bought most everything, yet she still needed linens and a dress. She glanced at me as if I were insane. I nodded slowly, "You're inviting all of Salem."

She blushed, "Pretty much."

"Who are your bridesmaids?" I asked.

"Clawdeen's my maid of honor, Frankie..." Naturally. She paused, glancing to me with wide, hopeful eyes, "and you?"

"Do I have to wear pink?" I teased. She blushed. I still couldn't find it in myself to be angry, so I sighed, "Make it a dark pink at the very least." She clasped her hands together and dashed over to me, throwing her arms around my waist and squeezing me violently, "Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!"

I patted the top of her head, "I can't breathe." I said it in the most unaffected tone possible, yet she still drew away as if she'd hurt me. I wanted to laugh.  
Zofie came up beside Draculaura and tugged her skirt. Laura looked down and took the linen in my daughter's hands. Her expression filled with immediate pride, "Oh Zofie..." My daughter beamed, returning to me and whispering, "and I think I found presents too."

"D, we're going to go grab something for the boys. Wrap up and meet us?" I teased. It seemed she had come to her final decision anyway, and when she looked up, she beamed, "Alright. The place Bram likes?"

I nodded, and with my fingers wrapped gently through my daughter's, I let her lead me away. She paused outside a jewelry shop, and I laughed. "Sweetheart, wedding gifts are practical things. Things they can use now that they're getting married."

She shrugged, "Daddy said to get them towels."

I squeezed her hand gently, "That's why we do the shopping. Boys can go bring in the bacon, but the girls know how to fry it up."

The last thing I wanted was for Zofie to feel as embarrassed to embrace her femininity as some girls in our era were. As far as I saw, and as far as she could see, there was nothing wrong with breaking the roles set before us and still carrying out what could be seen as woman's work; it wasn't like we could trust most men with it. Zofie wrinkled her nose as we walked into the department store and started looking around the house wares. As we wandered around, she rolled her eyes as often as possible. If it couldn't be worn, she wanted nothing to do with it. "Don't they have all of this?" she asked.

"What if they want to get their own little place, away from their families?" I asked.

"Then buy them a little place," she replied, trailing along with an exaggerated yawn. I rolled my eyes and picked up a pair of cookbooks for Clawd, partially as a joke and partially in the hopes he could fix his horrible luck with cooking. I stopped off to get Laura something nice before meeting her down at the bookstore at the mall's very heart. She was next door, peeking in the windows at a leather jacket she surely would've liked to get for Clawd.

"Are we thinking of the same man?" I teased. She looked up, blushing, "I'm not sure. I'm having a hard time thinking of more than one."

"Go get it for him," I said with a soft nudge, "We'll find something on our own."

She questioned whether it was really alright with her eyes and I nudged her toward the sporting goods store while I led Zofie inside to hunt for one of the books Bram had wanted. "Why doesn't Daddy want a jacket too?" she asked. I pulled down the volume he wanted and balanced it on my arm, glancing down to her. "Maybe we'll get him one anyway." My phone vibrated once, a text, but I let it go unnoticed while shopping. I didn't want to disrupt this happiness with news of any kind unless it was good.

...

After dropping off the girls, we headed down the highway at record speeds. Clawd's Escalade was the only car the six of us could fit in, and after Draculaura had passed it on to him in favor of commuting with other people, we enjoyed the blazing speed more than most. Valentine opened the sunroof, sending shadows sprawling back and forth over us. Clawd turned up the classic rock and enjoyed the freedom. Sports and conquest had been long lost to me, but as we pulled off onto a deer path in the middle of nowhere- driving carefully for a few miles so not to hit anything small- the familiar urge returned.

"Hopefully Draculaura can keep it to Gory for a few hours," Clawd muttered as he climbed out. "I'm so sick of hearing about linen patterns that I could cry."

"You're joking. She did it single-handedly for our wedding," I replied, pulling out the keys and tossing them to him. He hopped out and trudged around to get our gear while Valentine and I climbed out. "Yeah, but you forget. Gory's...y'know, Gory."

"She knows what she wants," Valentine elaborated for Clawd, "You can talk freely, she's not around to hear you. Last thing I'd want is to be_ married_ to her. Christ. Four hundred years and she's still giving me puppy eyes."

Clawd walked around, raising a brow at Val while locking the truck.

"_Do you love me Val? Did you love me Val? How about now Val? Can I make you care about me Val? So maybe I can have some drama?_ Please."

I scowled. "Obviously you don't know her that well. Her concern for you is genuine, as were her feelings once. She just wants to make sure there's no bad blood between you before she goes to marry someone else."

"Or what?" he asked, "She'll put everything on hold to talk to me about my feelings? Please. Don't get me wrong, Clawd, she's a gorgeous girl, but I don't think I could take having sex with her let alone marrying her. She wanted to analyze everything."

If we killed him, they'd never find the body. I kept the thought as a comfort to us both while he continued on like the jealous prat he was making himself out to be. We hiked until we reached the lake, and Clawd slid down the banks to take up a nicely sunny spot beside a crook of high tide. He baited and cast, and I followed suit. Val perched nearby, fishing pole across his lap, blessedly silent.

"I love her," Clawd finally said, "It's taken fucking forever to finally get her going on this, though. It's like she was waiting for something."

I glanced to him with a little smile, "You wanna know what she was waiting for? Gory to have an excuse to go help her pick out everything. It's like their tradition to pick out each other's stuff."

"Doesn't she just need flowers and a dress?"

Val scoffed. I shook my head, "I wish it were that simple. That's the entire reason I'm never going to offer to redo it again. We did it once, we have the proof, we're done. Don't get me wrong, I know you love her. I love my wife too, but that was too much work for a Friday in June."

"We're going to settle on a date when she gets the dress," he replied, "She's making a big deal about going to the same place you guys went to."

"Hey," Valentine called. We ignored him.

"It won't take long then." The line caught and I grinned, reeling in the first fish. Clawd laughed as I caught the trout like an expert, de-hooked it and dropped it in a pail of shallow water. "You're not killing them?"

"Nah," I replied, "If they really expect us to, I can stop off at the deli on the way back and pick up some already dead fish." Sure she'd know the difference, but if she didn't care too much, she wouldn't tell.

"Guys," Valentine said, a bit more volume in his tone.

"What?" I called over my shoulder.

"You gotta _fuckin' see this_."

I threw a glance over my shoulder and set the rod down beside the bucket. Heading up the steep embankment, I took up a hunter's crouch beside him and watched through the brush at a deer brutally smashing its antlers against a tree. "It's not season for them to grow," I whispered. My stomach sank while realization sunk in, and though nature wasn't one to be interfered with, I dashed into the brush and grasped its neck. It threw its antlers and slammed into my arm, bucking wildly. I caught its antlers gently, staring into its face. The eyes were full of terror, and with a sharp butt, it shoved me off and ran away. It was silent. I returned to them, shaking my head, "We have to go."

Clawd nodded and withdrew his line. I dumped the fish and packed up to go when Val laughed once, nervously, "Hey Bram? You need to look down at your arm." Clawd took the bucket from my hand, and as it was extended, I noticed it. There was a deep, harsh piercing on my bicep from the sharpened tips of the deer's antlers. I ripped my sleeve to tie around it, but Clawd paused. "I think we need to go."

"What the hell is going on?" Valentine muttered. Clawd started off ahead of us while I tried to tie my tourniquet around my arm. We made it back to the truck, taking notice of Clawd's tense posture in the driver's seat. I nudged him, "We should probably go."

He nodded, throwing the car in reverse and pulling out with a greater speed than we expected. Neither of us had buckled in until he'd peeled out onto the pavement. He had known that part of the forest had gone silent, and there was a large part of me unnerved by the silence too. It seemed that in our absence, the life became restored.

"Maybe we freak out the wildlife," Val offered. Neither Clawd nor I replied; I focused on my throbbing arm. If we had scared off the wildlife, then why had the deer thought suicide was an easier option than fleeing? Valentine's stalking?

As we entered town, the both of them relaxed visibly. I couldn't relax. "Do you want me to drop you off at a hospital or something?" Clawd asked.

"Didn't you go to medical school?" I snapped. They both remained silent, but we pulled down his street anyway. I pulled out my phone and texted Gory with my free hand, hoping some reply would relieve the worry sinking in my chest. _I really hope you're having a better afternoon than we are._


	14. Chapter Fourteen

_Chapter Fourteen_

The boys showed up late to no one's surprise. We had stopped off to pick up food for them before we climbed into the car, and while Draculaura stowed her gear in the empty back (along with ours, but it was really mostly Draculaura's) and climbed in the front seat between her ex and fiancee, Zofie and I joined Bram in back. I noticed his torn shirt and thoroughly cleaned and bandaged arm instantly, "What happened?" My eyes snapped to Valentine reflexively. Whenever something went wrong, it was usually that little shit's fault.

"Don't look at me, he was the one who had to jump in on a horny deer," Valentine replied. He thought he was funny, and frankly I couldn't tell if that was an antler pun or if the deer was literally sex crazed, but I glared daggers at the back of his head anyway. Zofie made herself small between us so I could grasp his arm gently and examine the dressings. "Clawd did this," I murmured, appraising the skilled medicinal work. The werewolf grew sheepish, but smiled regardless. Draculaura kissed his cheek.

"It was suicidal," Bram muttered, correcting Val but without the strength of tone that normally accompanied a correction.

"Why? Rudolf just couldn't take the bullying anymore?" Valentine replied. He stared at his own absent reflection in the side mirror, potentially looking at Draculaura in her cowl necked pink shirt.

"Rudolf was a reindeer, stupid head," Zofie replied with a sharp tone. Uncle or no uncle, she took to no one belittling her family. Despite my worry, I smirked in pride as our friends dissolved into laughter. Valentine rolled his eyes. "You are your mother's daughter."

The familiar bump as we went from the paved road onto our unpaved wooded path jostled the truck slightly. Bram glanced to me, his eyes filled with concern. "The forest went silent."

"Oh you're making something out of nothing! Just because your daughter's a Disney princess doesn't mean you magically charm animals into thinking you're not a predator," Valentine replied, "And we had one stupid deer, that's fine. There were no swarms of devil birds of sudden pet attacks, I'd call it an isolated incident and let it be."

I had to admit, he was right. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping in the trees around our home. "Certain animals are used to you, darling," I murmured. My hand rested on his knee, but he didn't unwind any. Draculaura and Clawd pulled up at the house and Valentine kissed her cheek, nudged Clawd's arm and dismounted. I leaned over and kissed her cheek as well, "Thank you for letting us come with you."

"I couldn't do it without you," she replied. Bram tucked Zofie in his good arm and climbed out of the car while Valentine fetched what was mine from the back, pointed out by Zofie. I climbed out, pausing before heading toward the house, "Aren't you going to come in for a while?"

She blushed, "I have a lot to show Clawd. A lot to finish up. I'll call you later."

"Alright. Have fun," I teased. They pulled away as I unlocked the door and Valentine went upstairs. A chilly breeze stirred in the trees and was immediately shut out. I could hear Val shout from afar that he'd left my things on my bed. I locked the door and beckoned to the chair, "Let me see your arm."

My husband sat, letting our daughter climb to the footrest while I perched on the arm and gently unwrapped the coverings from the wound. It had been cauterized at the very least. "You didn't let him stitch this?" I asked, tracing the raw-looking edges with a fingertip. He winced. Scowling, I addressed Zofie, "Go get the peroxide, fresh bandages and my needle and thread, would you?"

"It's not that serious," Bram insisted through gritted teeth. I bent my lips to his wound, placing a little kiss to the jagged swipe, "Don't be a baby."

He saw the mist assembling in the door to the other room the moment I did. He snapped to his feet and shoved me behind him, a stupid act of chivalry that only sent him sprawling unexpectedly. The black clad attacker was dirty and ashen, and I knew without a doubt that I had seen them before. I might've been a lady, but I was not my mother.

I grasped the vampire around the neck and threw my weight backward. Even in heels, I stood firmly enough to make them budge. The sharp snap of an elbow into my ribs felt familiar; I felt like I was in combat training again. I threw them down and stabbed my heel into their groin. They caught my foot, I tucked and rolled to the side and sent them skidding across the floor with momentum. Bram rose and so did I, shoe intact and all. I took a deep breath to restore myself, and as they lunged again, Bram grasped my arm gently. I leapt up and kicked like a kangaroo, both feet connecting with the vampire's chest and sending them slamming backward into the doors. The lock cracked easily, but they didn't go the proper direction to burst outward and I hadn't hit hard enough to make the hinges crack. I snapped forward without waiting, slamming into them and ripping one of the doors back at the same time. They grasped my arm. I planted my feet and jerked my entire body outward, using all of my force to send them tumbling onto the grass. They kept hold of me though; we ended up crashing to the concrete.

I caught a glimpse of Zofie watching from between the spaces in the railing, her delicate hands shaking and her eyes wide with fear. They had been there, in mist, waiting for me to invite my friends inside and taking the opportunity to escape past us when they had the chance. Their proximity to her made something snap inside me. I wrenched off the cover over their face and dragged them out into the sun.

The first thing I noticed was that my intruder was young and male, likely not with much training. Fangs bared, he cried out in a mix of horror and agony with the sun on his skin. He was dirty, but not dirty enough to protect himself. He was sizzling, burning within seconds. I kept my arm around his neck despite his kicking. He wrenched and pulled and I dug my nails into his vest, ripping it off and tearing into the shirt below. He bit me, ripping into my arm with his teeth like a wild animal. I didn't let go.

I knew he'd been impressed- Bram had a habit of being impressed when I fought, it had gone on since the beginning and apparently was never ending- but he jumped in when he saw my blood. He planted one foot firmly on the young man's chest and wrenched my arm. I felt the snap against my bones, and they began to ache in response. I knew I hadn't killed him. There were tears still streaming from his blinking, frying eyes. It made me sick. I pulled away, for the first time disgusted at my ability to take a life, even when it was a threat to me.

"How did you get out?" Bram snarled. He removed his foot, the defenseless vampire dying slowly, burning alive. Through cracked, smoldering lips, he whispered, "Never...went...in."

"How many of you are there?" he growled, his figure imposing over the dying creature. I didn't know why, it wasn't like he could do any worse.

"Six," he rasped. "F-ive...more."

"Where are they?" Bram growled, lowering himself closer. My eyes blurred with tears that I allowed myself to shed; I finally understood why people gave up what they had in the last few minutes of life. Death was impending, but there was still a chance to live. He could've finished the job, but he was leaving the boy in agony. Even those last agonized moments were still time.

"Not far," the boy gasped. "Not...coming...for her."

"Then what are they here for?" Bram asked, his tone softening. He knew and so did I, and for some reason I pushed myself to my feet and distanced myself. I clasped my hand over my mouth to stop myself from falling into hysterics, and despite my heavy breath as I tried to keep the sobs at bay, I heard. It was very gentle and very small, but the tears finally spilled free and I fell to my knees by the door. He had whispered Dracula's name, and despite the knowledge that I was protecting my family, myself and my friends, I couldn't bear what I had done. It had been an instinct, kill or be killed. I just couldn't escape the thought that he was somebody's baby. I had lost my parents, and some family, somewhere, had lost their son. Surely the casualties were innumerable thus far, but it hadn't changed the fact that we had made one more.

Bram joined me in silence. He sat against the wall beside me and wrapped his wounded arm around my body. He held me close and brushed his fingers through my bangs, his touch trailing downward to dry my tears in silence. As I looked up, I saw my brother beside Zofie, holding her tightly to his side, ready to protect her in a moment's notice. If I had ever doubted Valentine's loyalty before, it was overlooked now. Seeing the tears in my eyes, Zofie broke away from her uncle and bolted down the stairs. Her feet breezed so easily across the floor it looked like she were flying, and she dashed into both of our arms. I clutched her while her father whispered gentle, sweet things to her, I pressed her hummingbird heart to mine and tried to calm her as I calmed myself. She looked at her father's open wound and the blood still streaming from my arm and she began to cry. Valentine appeared with the things she had left behind on the stairwell and thrust them into Bram's hands, ordering him with the most calm I had seen in him in a very long time to take Zofie and lock up while he tended to my arm. I didn't let him pick me up, I had too much dignity for that, but it was taking effort to calm myself.

As soon as he had led me into the kitchen, he threw his arms around me and crushed me to his chest. Someone had lost their brother, but I hadn't lost mine. I clutched him the way Sean had told me once that he clutched Bram when the battle they had faced together was over. Of course it hadn't been the end of the war and they were just a pair of noble sons, and they could be sought to fight again, but they had made it through together and they had clutched each other as if they cheated death. I clutched my brother because I knew he could've by letting me fight instead. I clutched my brother because he cared, and because as he pulled away, he began cleaning my wound with more tenderness than I imagined he had shown a woman outside of his bed. I crumpled against Valentine's shoulder and I voiced my grief, I repeated time and time again that I had "killed him." As if I knew. As if it was the first man I had ever killed, but maybe it was. The beasts at Belfry Prep might've been men beyond their animal forms, but they had been animals in facing me. They had ripped into us, they had sought to decimate us, they had fought like beasts and not men. But this had been a boy. One of my own. And I had killed him.

"It's alright," Valentine coaxed, squeezing me gently, "It's alright. You had to do it. Gory, believe me. If there had been another way, you would've done it."

It would not be the last casualty, I knew. Dracula might've decimated most of their forces, but they were like kamikazes. They would fight until their death, because they saw the world as having only this to fight for. There was no bomb we could drop without killing ourselves, it was our own personal vampire Vietnam. But there were only a handful left. Our war was won already, but I had never dreamed that I would be on the front lines.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

_Chapter Fifteen_

It was after nightfall when my brother and I took a short trip into the city to Dracula's corporate headquarters. It was one of those buildings that girls like Ghoulia and I were able to properly marvel at, with just the right amount of Agent of SHIELD and Stark Industries mixed together to create something momentous. As I headed into the rich, scarlet lobby of Dracula's office, Valentine paused. I nodded, allowing him to stay as he was. A plainly beautiful vampire secretary let me in and pulled the heavy, dark-wood door closed behind me.

I don't know what I expected. He had a glossy, sleek desk and lush black carpets with black leather chairs and shiny, modern door handles. Everything was sleek and modern, even though the painted portraits in their thin frames were centuries old.

He rose from his seat, perfectly creased gray suit completely in place as if he hadn't spent all day working. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

I nodded, pressing my lips together. "The others?"

He nodded. Rising fluidly, he took a gentle hold of my arm and led me toward an adjacent door. I knew better than to expect all of this to go down in a meeting hall, but I had learned quite early to expect the unexpected with Dracula. "Should you become exhausted, say the word," he murmured.

I nodded, tightening my grip on his arm ever so slightly. He pulled open the door and started down a set of stairs lit by LED wall sconces on one side. For some reason, I stayed closer to them. The landing was illuminated, but a few feet ahead of it was bathed in shadow, and likely alternating down the possibly subterranean hall. The darkness unwound my nerves considerably. While humans took the light as a comfort, we took to the dark. My hold on the king of the undead's arm relaxed, and he glanced to me with a small smile, "You never want to appear before the council angry."

My brows rose. He nodded in silent acknowledgement. Events in the council room were placed in the highest honor. I wondered if we would be before them, but I didn't wonder for long. Dracula led me to a door at the end of the dimly lit hall and pushed it open gently. I ascended atrium stairs into a large, rich, luxurious room seemingly cut off from the rest of the world.

My mother sat on the floor, as jittery as possible. She looked exhausted; no doubt her days and nights had been confused in the time she'd spent in confinement, and upon her seeing me, she glared murderously. Dracula's presence further agitated her, though she didn't speak. The burning anger in her eyes focused on him.

"Why did you do this?" I whispered, drawing her attention back to me.

"To give you what I never had," she snapped. Her eyes never left him, "But you've always been ungrateful to everything I do for you, so I suppose it's going to be another thing you play off as my fault."

I barely resisted the urge to strike out, "No, I never asked you to do this. I was young-"

"Full of potential-" she tried to cut me off.

"And I was capable of making my own fucking decisions. I have always been. Don't even try to blame this on me."

Her eyes finally settled on me. She was on her knees, shackled and defenseless, but my mother was nothing if not Fangtell blood. Defiant, even while helpless, she glared at me with unbridled disdain. I couldn't quite call it hatred, not from the woman who nursed me to the creature I became. My emotion slowly ebbed away as I stared at her. "I killed a boy yesterday," I said with deliberate slowness, "He was one of yours."

"Most of them are dead, yes. I'm not sure why this surprises you." Her eyes were knowing. Cold. She had suffered already and had given up coping.

"You killed my father," I replied. I let those words sink in, and when the hatred flared in her eyes, I continued. "You have gotten a lot of people killed for a stupid cause. And you know what, Mom? That was someone's baby. I was someone's baby, and you endangered mine. I know he killed your friends, and I want you to dwell on that. I want you to think about every person you have gotten killed and I want you to understand that I killed a certifiable child to protect my own. I'm not going to forgive you for this." I straightened up and glanced at Dracula, "And you can do with her whatever the hell you will. But I want her to remember that she had everything once, and she's driven it into the ground." All. By. Herself.

I didn't look back to my mother's face as I went back the way I'd come. I heard shifting and the bump and brush of kevlar and heavy weaponry. "Gory," my mother called, "You're not just going to leave me like this."

I let Dracula pull open the door ahead of me, and before she could call my name again, we sealed ourselves back into the hall.

Dracula's hand rested between my shoulders, and I knew. I heard a splash, and the subsequent sound of liquid trickling down the door we had just left, and I took off ahead of him. I dashed up to the other door and yanked on the handle, trying to escape the vivid scenes of my mind. The thought of my mother's blood had overwhelmed me. I sunk to the floor slowly and pressed my hands to my mouth. He came to sit beside me, drawing my body against his side as if I were his own daughter, and I closed my eyes.

I closed my eyes and I erased what I knew with what I hoped.

...

While he waited, Valentine read. It was an old, particularly weathered leather volume of Bram's, but it seemed to suit the events of the moment well. As he turned the page, he became aware of a gentle rustling that didn't belong to his book, and his head lifted only to nearly come in painful contact with Draculaura's. She startled, grasping the arm of the chair in surprise. Her cheeks colored, "What are you reading?"

"What are you doing, spying in other peoples' books?" he replied teasingly.

"Do you make fun of girls because you like them?" she replied as she righted herself. He let the volume thump shut on folded page, shifting just slightly to protect the faded lettering from her gaze. "It seems to only be you I end up teasing, doesn't it?"

She smoothed her perfectly neat pink blouse, "Does it make you feel big?"

Despite her play at feminine strength, he offered his hand, "Come on Laura, do you really think I'd use you for the butt of my jokes if I meant what I was saying?"

She rolled her eyes, ignoring his hand to perch on the arm of the chair beside him, "How about being unable to marry me, and all the other mean things you've been able to say in front of your friends and not to my face?"

"Because I wouldn't marry you," he replied, slipping his arm around her waist. She scowled down at his fingers as they drummed on her thigh teasingly. "Girls like you don't take guys like me home, Draculaura. You know that. You marry the good one, which you're doing, and I'm very proud of you. Besides, you're far too...worldly for me. I'd like a girl to think she's a princess, not actually be one."

Despite her scowl, her cheeks pinked. He nudged her hip, "It's not that I don't still like you, I do, it's just that I'd rather not put you through more than you need." He paused, tugging her gently toward him once again with enough firmness to his tone to drop her into his lap. Her face bloomed a deeper shade of pink that only matched her visible swallow. She had grown up quite a bit since the last time he'd seen her, and if he had to be honest, so had he. Though her obsession with pink and innocence and femininity had never ceased, she had grown into a more mature body. Her straight hair fell over her shoulders, fluid straight and soft, matching her straight bangs that dipped to her delicate, dark brows. He placed his hand gently upon her lower back and admired the mature pronunciation of her cheekbones, the still-delicate, heart-shaped angle of her jaw. His eyes fell to her hands interlocked in her lap, with the chipping black polish, before raising to her exotic eyes.

"You never doubted a word I said, so now I want you to. It was never real, and I want you to stop loving me." Shock filled her eyes, but he continued unabashed. Her pain, though slicing into his emotional turmoil as painfully as any physical wound, was necessary. "That boy will treat you well. I can't promise you that. I promise that I will mess up, and I will break your heart. As your friend, I'm warning you that I have always been, or at least tried to be, that."

"You said you couldn't hurt me," she exhaled, blinking softly as if to hold back tears.

"I couldn't hurt you more than I am right now, but this is for your own good," he whispered. He placed the book gently in her hands and let her lift it for examination. She stared at the Machiavellian cover and placed it gently back down in his lap. She nodded, a small smile crossing her face, "I know. You don't need to tell me these things, Val. I haven't really loved you in four hundred years. But if it helps, you really are a good male friend...even if you sometimes come off the gay best friend."

He laughed openly, pulling her in for a tight squeeze. "Jackson Jekyll still single?"

"Seeing Frankie seriously," she muttered against his shoulder, "They took it really slow."

"Damn," he muttered. He released her with a teasing smile and squeezed her arms, "I'm invited to your wedding, yes?"

"As long as you promise not to embarrass me." She rose and brushed off her skirt, making him smile.

"And then, Clawd, she tripped over her skirt and fell halfway down the hill. I would've followed, but catching her at that speed probably would've brought me down with her, so I just helped her up out of the rabbit hole in the tree."

She smacked his arm and headed past him into her father's office. A moment later, she emerged with a black tote bag and paused as she rifled through her keys, "Walk me to my car? Just in case?"

He sighed, rising as if exasperated, "Well alright, I don't know if I could live with myself if the bride-to-be ended up in trouble."

Rolling her eyes, she slipped out ahead of him, "Please. You're a nice little distraction, but I'm the one who needs to keep you out of trouble."


	16. Chapter Sixteen

_Chapter Sixteen_

Aftermath was always a difficult thing. This time she hadn't stayed in bed all day, but it had been difficult to get her to focus at first. The gravity of the situation had sunk in at last. Valentine went to work and came home, doing simply that for a few days. Despite his obvious lack of enthusiasm for everything there was in life, I had taken to listening to his radio broadcasts with Cupid, and found that he was at the very least an exceptional actor.

The sun was glistening on the damp leaves outside Zofie's bedroom window, streaking through and coating her floor in spilt gold light. She blew bubbles at me from her sunflower scented bath. Leaning on the counter, I straightened to pop one. She had that same mischievous look in her eyes that her mother had whenever she intended to tease someone. Her little face held so much of Gory's, her little mannerisms clearly picked up from her mother's constant presence. She blew another handful at me, but they managed to only slip free of her fingers and plop down among the others. She rolled her eyes, wise beyond her years, and sunk into the water in exasperation.

"What are you doing?" I asked her.

"Relaxing," she said, "Mommy says when she needs to relax in the morning, she takes a nice, long bubble bath and that's why she gets so tired sometimes."

I chuckled, "Your mother is just as big of a sucker for flowers as you are. Now hurry up, if we're going to the art and garden show, we should really try to leave now."

She scrubbed her scraped-up elbows diligently, not wincing a bit. I raised a brow, "How'd you get all those?"

"Sammy and I have adventures in the woods all the time," she said simply, "Usually Uncle Val takes us. He found this really cool little path that we walk down all the time. I think it's an Indian graveyard."

Her eyes lit up at the thrill of the unknown. She was so much like her mother; basic self-preservation was getting outweighed by the simplistic thought that if she didn't believe, or if she believed hard enough against it, that she would be safe. She glanced at me expectantly and I budged, murmuring an apology as I knelt to help her wash her hair.

"Uncle Val taught me all kinds of cool things Grandma taught him. He says she believed her religions endlessly until she went nuts."

I massaged the shampoo gently into her hair, "I'm not surprised. Your mother and your grandmother were a lot alike until those last few years. Up until the end, your grandmother was always very stubborn. It seems to run in the X chromosomes of the Fangtell line."

Zofie smiled, "You were one fourth of a chromosome off being a girl too, Daddy."

"Biology isn't my forte, you should ask your uncle what he thinks about that." Turning the water gently back on, I rinsed her hair and combed the tangles from it with my fingers. Her hair was so much like her mother's, thick as a bird's feathers and impossible to untangle in spots. She whimpered and I finally gave up, "If your mother wasn't finally working, I'd get her to do this."

"What's she working on?" she asked curiously while she ran bubbles over her green-painted toenails.

"A book," I replied. Of what, I didn't know. Thankfully, Zofie didn't ask. She let me finish her hair and glanced at me, "You're a boy, so you should leave."

"What if you fall and hurt yourself?" I asked.

She gave me a look, forcing me to raise my hands in surrender and head off into her room to wait for her. "You know, I saw you when you were born," I called into the open door of her little bathroom.

"I grew up since then!" she replied. I put all my effort into withholding my laughter while I thumbed through some of her trinkets. Gory had bought her a little ceramic jewelry dish with a pair of little birds on the edges, and although partially dressed in the jewelry we'd gotten her, there was also a few things I had never seen before. A black cord held a thick, copper Tree of Life, an anklet of coin-shaped brass pieces that tinkled together like chimes when touched, a little leather neckband with a Celtic knot of pure silver. It was sharply tipped, but the tips were dulled down. He wasn't stupid in giving her things, I could admit that.

I heard the water turn off and peeked into her jewelry box. I wouldn't admit how off-putting it was to hear that Valentine was entertaining her with stories from some cult culture that drove their mother insane, but I also wouldn't be like her mother and look at every single thing she owned and every page of every journal to try to keep her sheltered. Zofie wandered out half-dressed and looked expectantly at me, "Daddy, can I cut off my hair?"

I rose a brow, glancing down to her, "Why?"

"Because it's impossible to get the knots out."

I picked up her brush and seated myself on her bed. She draped her towel off beside her and sat down on the dry part, allowing me to brush her hair. The brush stuck at the tangle, and no matter how much it was forced, it wouldn't budge. I surrendered and grabbed her comb, only to push until the prongs threatened to break. She glanced at me with childish frustration. "Give me a moment, maybe something of your mother's will fix it."

"Just get the scissors," she replied.

I was hesitant to barge in on Gory while she worked, but the calming melody of medieval instrumentals came from the speakers of her laptop while she typed. I opened the door and attempted to slip past, but at the very last second she said, "What are you doing?"

"I can't get Zofie's hair untangled," I admitted.

There was a quirk to her lips as she finished her paragraph and saved her draft, setting the computer aside and going back the way I'd come. I brought the scissors just in case. While I watched, she had Zofie get up to get ready and began brushing her hair slowly at the bottom of the knot and just above. When it seemed to be relaxed, she swept through it swiftly while holding her fingers above it. Zofie didn't cry out, though the sharp yank did let loose a few strands of hair. She brushed it until the brush glided smoothly over that section before continuing on. Any snag she encountered was met by the same expertise. I shoved my hands in my pockets, observing in silence until she lifted her eyes and examined our daughter in the green, tie-dyed sundress she had decided to put on.

"It looks beautiful on you," she murmured, kissing her forehead.

"Uncle Val gave it to me," Zofie said, "He got it for me at a pow-wow when he was dating an Indian girl."

She tried not to smile, "That certainly sounds like Val."

Zofie picked up the thin leather choker as her mother got up, and I raised a brow. Gory glanced to it, set down the brush and shrugged. As she joined me in the hall, she whispered, "What?" Before I could reply, though, she said, "Zofie, don't you take another step without putting on sunscreen."

"I already did," she replied.

"Legs, arms, chest, neck, face?" Gory listed.

She nodded, fumbling with the clasp. She stepped in and clasped it on our daughter's neck, kissing her softly, "Don't make that too tight, and don't let it poke you."

"I know, Mom," Zofie replied before starting her hunt for her shoes. As Gory stepped up beside me, I gently grasped her arm, "The stuff he's telling her, giving her...I don't know if I like it."

A tiny smile flitted across her face, "My mother had her things, but she wasn't as horrible of a person as you think she was." It seemed like a very grand time to defend her after she'd been executed for international terrorism and treason against our king. I made no attempt to hide my disdain, but Gory's arms folded gently around my neck and she leaned up the few inches to kiss me softly. "I'm trying to remember her fondly, sweetheart. I don't want to think of her badly now that all that remains is memories."

"Still," I persisted. She kissed me again, lightly and warmly. Those tempting little kisses drove me insane and she knew it.

"My mother explored things, love. Cultures beyond her own. It's no doubt she got Val into half of what he's doing, and he's turned out alright so far." Considering Valentine was a player with a crude sense of humor and the etiquette of a baby bird, it seemed like alright was probably going to be as far as he got. I glanced in at Zofie, but Gory's soft fingers traced my chest. "She's not Val, and she's not my mother. She has your blood in her too. You gave her brains, I gave her passion."

It seemed like an accurate representation of the dispersal of our genes. Zofie leaned against her window and rested her fingers on the glass. There must've been a bird or a butterfly, because she giggled at its passing by. "She's doing okay. We're all doing okay."

I tore my eyes away from our daughter to settle on my better half. Her eyes were warm, understanding, and her skin was warm with having fed recently. I stroked her bare arms gently, "Are you okay?"

A little smile flitted across her lips as she murmured, "I can promise you I've never been better."

...

Even with its monster population, Salem had become the kind of town people wanted to raise families in. With Zofie holding either of our hands, we wandered through the art and garden show in the park. Some people dressed similarly to Zofie ran a candle booth and smiled at her as they passed. I stopped to assess a few things that my boss might be interested in, but in light of recent events, I wanted to make it more about Gory's happiness than work. Her own skirt draped lovingly over her legs and brushed the tops of her tapestry colored shoes. I trailed slightly after my girls, only to be joined by Jonas.

"They seem happy," he observed.

"As I hope yours are as well," I replied, pausing off to the side of the footpath to speak with him.

"They are, but there are still five more fugitives, you know. I just want to make sure you know to be careful with them."

I met his eyes. "We're at an understanding then. You protect your family and I will mine, and if anyone else dares get in my way, she won't have to do the killing this time." Regardless of the state of the slash in my arm, I would do it myself. My eyes returned to them, watching as Zofie draped a crystal on a cord around her mother's throat. Gory was never particularly spiritual, but she was in the sense of her own defense. We had gargoyles in the windows of our room and Zofie's for a reason.

"Bram, I mean it. They know about the both of you now, they know what you're capable of. They'll be after them. Anything they think they can do to make you weak, they'll try."

I watched my daughter, and my gaze drew her eyes up to my own. She noticed the hard expression of muted distrust that had developed and she rose her chin slightly. Her grip tightened on her mother's hand, not going unnoticed to Gory. She stole a glance over her shoulder to me, and I watched as she took notice of Jonas. The grief that filled her eyes as she realized that her struggle wasn't over was too immense to voice, but she pulled Zofie just a little closer.

"Whatever you need, we can help you," Jonas murmured.

I glanced to him and patted his shoulder, "I know. And I thank you. But you have a family to think of now, and I'd rather we go at this alone." A good king told his men to stay with their families and watched them join him regardless. Jonas nodded, understanding, but his eyes showed no give in his decisions. A very lucky king had good men to back him, and for the first time since I looked seventeen years old, I felt like one.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

_Chapter Seventeen_

Castles in the old world had these kinds of parties in the summer. After the art show, Bram had begun contacting our old friends. Before long, Valentine had thrown together a bonfire and we had word from Sean that he would be coming from Ireland, and bringing a throng of the noble cousins with him. I kept Zofie close to me on the veranda despite the fact that it was a party and we knew these people very well.

"Zo, why don't you go play?" Valentine asked as he walked out. I shot him a dirty look. She glanced up to me hesitantly, but I swallowed my pride and forced myself to smile, "Stay where I can see you."

The birds had gone to bed, but the nightlife was still abundant. The sounds of insects, little animals and emerging predators felt like the only grasp to sanity I had left. Valentine wrapped his arm around me, supporting my arms crossed over my chest, "She'll be alright. These people are your people. They love you."

I glanced among them, noticing how they were spread out almost as if keeping a perimeter. They seemed to want to be able to point out any strangers in their midst; I could say one thing for vampires, no matter their ages, they weren't inexperienced at hunting and defending.

Zofie's head lifted, and a surge of relief filled my body as she ran back toward us, hearing our visitors the same moment I did. She jumped the gate and landed nearly on top of Aleksi. Only a few weeks older than her, he was still little and chubby, just like her, but he seemed to have interest in living up to his name's meaning. He tugged her in close and squeezed before pulling her back to the house. Vinnie slid past them, patting her head as he went, "I'll be in to say hey to you in a minute, kiddo."

I pulled away from Valentine and wrapped my arms tightly around my best friend's neck. He kissed my cheek firmly, locking his fingers in the back of my shirt, "How are you doin', beautiful?"

"Better now that she has someone to keep her occupied," I replied, "How's Tash?"

"Tash," he replied with a chuckle. "Griping over everything. She'd probably be a terrorist if she wasn't so lazy."

I smacked his arm. He laughed, refusing to let go. While he squeezed, I became aware of a presence next to me. The owner of it cleared his throat and forced my eyes to open. At first, I didn't think I knew the young man I encountered; he had short, brown curls and lean, lanky limbs that came with the awkward phases of maturation, and it was only when he smiled a full, dimpled smile with a slightly crooked fang that it fully struck me that the boy I was looking at was Charlie.

"Oh my god," I whispered, drawing away from Vinnie. "Oh my god! Charlie!"

He grinned, less like I was the sister he once adored and more like a simply long-unseen relative. There was much more warmth to his expression than family. "Hey, Gory." His voice had deepened slightly, passing through the boyish uncertainty of seven years past and the cracking squeak Val had been stuck at for years and settling into the tenor of maturity. Out of all the things I had to say to him, all that I could get out without bursting into tears of disbelief seemed to be, "What did you do to your hair?!"

He let me pull him in for a crushing hug, looping his arms loosely around my waist in return, "I cut it."

"Hey now," Vinnie said, smacking him lightly, "Head off the boobs. Those aren't yours."

He grinned as he withdrew, "She doesn't mind, Vin. Besides, she's Gory. I love her, but I don't love her like _that_."

I didn't know what to do. We had all grown up. It had been easy to cope with the thought before, but now I realized that people I couldn't trust in high school understood me now. Jacob and Tiffany were dancing on the lawn as if they'd been together for centuries. Walter was seated in the grass while Ruth and a girl or two from the former fearleading squad caught up. We were all seeing each other with new eyes, and that even extended to the lovely woman stepping through the doorway with Bram not far behind that must've been Natasha. She had the same curls, the same warm red eyes, but everything about her had gone from youthful to adult. Her limbs were skinnier and her chest was fuller, and her hair was pushed back with a wrapped-up bandana. Everyone else dressed for a reunion, she dressed for a barbeque. I found myself smiling. The cuffs of her jeans were rolled up to just below her knees. A thin-strapped shirt draped in tatter-appearing strips fluffed outward in varying shades of tie-dye green, embroidered with threads of gold and little brass buttons on the center of the petals of fabric. Her arms went out as if she anticipated lifting up a large trunk and she wrapped them around me delicately. I held her in return, "Do you eat anymore?"

"She's vegan now," Vinnie replied for her. He always had, but the tone of his marital teasing had only deepened. She withdrew, "It's good for you."

"It's horrible for you," he replied, "The food tastes like shit."

"You're a carnivore, you wouldn't understand," she replied. I lost my drama in their own, finding myself smiling with amusement as they went back and forth like nothing had ever changed.

"So are you," he continued.

"I'm a pranic now," she side-bar-whispered to me.

"She's not a fucking pranic, she thinks she's a fucking pranic. You don't get blood out of touching somebody and _we don't have an energy problem._"

I really didn't know how Aleksi and Charlie had grown up so well.

Bram gently placed his hand on my back, whispering in my ear, "Jonas and Lucy are inside with them. They're fine."

I smiled. He drew me just a bit closer, drawing my chin upward so our eyes met with his free hand. He looked like his father. I finally understood what our parents had readied us for our entire lives. His mother had wanted him to be happy, so she gave in to his every whim. Mine had wanted me to succeed, so she made a progressive nuisance of herself in mine, but his father, like my own, had taught him that only the things worth having came with a struggle.

"My white knight," I teased, kissing him softly.

"Bram," Jonas said, loud enough to quiet our group on the veranda. "There's another car pulling up."

His brows rose. He released me, going to tend to an unexpected visitor. Vinnie glanced at me; Valentine left after him without another word. Charlie tugged the other two into the throngs of our old friends, who gathered a bit closer as if sensing that everything was finally ready. I heard faint giggling from the den where Zofie, Aleksi and Kale were playing. How strange it was that among us, only three children had been born.

Draculaura blazed onto the veranda and drew me close, "We're not letting you do this alone."

"We?" I asked. Quite obviously, we weren't alone.  
Without much surprise, Dracula trailed her out, but he was also accompanied by Clawd and the reigning Alpha of the merged packs; Clawd's father. My skin awoke in strange tingles, but Bram gently pulled the doors shut behind them. He glanced to me, awaiting some kind of reaction. I had gone to school with these people, I didn't fear them. I didn't know what he expected. But for the first time, the people we outranked joined our strange little army, save for Jonas. He knew more than we did. They both knew more than I did. As werewolves emerged, wave by wave from among the trees, I fought the urge to relinquish my position to someone better informed.

The crackling bonfire became the only sound in our clearing, seconded by the gentle whisper of wind. I gazed into the understanding eyes of people I hardly knew, but loved regardless. It was my private war, my family's battle amongst ourselves, and all of them had come to aid us in it. I would've settled for Vinnie and Sean.

"The good news is, most of you shouldn't worry about combat," Jonas said, calmly and coolly. "There are only five rebels left. But, their vendetta is obviously personal. They are people who have struggled, much like ourselves. They blame all of the governments for their ails, but most supremely, _our_ king, who is responsible for us and our well-being. The leaders of these rebels was a woman by the name of Astrid Maxwell, formerly Brigida Fangtell." He glanced to me. I didn't budge; I could handle whatever he had to tell them. I hoped I'd heard most of it.  
"We had reason to believe that Astrid tried her hardest not to involve her husband, Stefano. Dracula's imperial guard first pursued them seven years ago, when it was a much larger organization headed by Henry Sinclair. The organization is made up of people whose families know absolutely nothing of their involvement. Each person seems to have made a personal decision and group commitment to leaving all innocent members out of their agenda. Whether this is a method of decoy, we don't know. In the first year, we wiped out most of the organization. At their peak, there were three hundred members. It has taken seven years, but we are now down to five. They are not an organization bent on publicity; most of their attacks have been silent until now. A great majority of our population is in understanding that if they ally themselves with them, if they so much as sympathize..."  
It was hard not to understand what they were fighting against with scare tactics like this. Everyone's visible resolve remained sure. Jonas continued.  
"They will attack either Dracula or their only other named opposition, and that is this branch of the Devein family. There aren't enough of them to attack both at the same time, and the chances are that they will wait now until they think we don't anticipate their arrival. When they make a move, we're going to squash them."

Bram gently moved from my side, "It will be best to stay in groups. We'll remain in a network until this is solved. They're most easily distinguished by the obvious lack of ability to groom themselves. They have battle scars, likely fresh wounds, and have obviously been through recent battle. Their clothes will show the most obvious wear. Do not take them on by yourselves, chances are they're at least moderately trained."

"Yeah, well, so are we," Walter replied. Our friends from Belfry Prep broke into beaming smiles.

"You're forgetting, we're looking at the two that kicked everyone else's ass," Tiffany added.

"If you want to, by all means. But if you get hurt, don't say I didn't warn you," Bram replied. "Wear weapons. And make sure that if you're about to go down, you take them with you."

The words rang familiar in my mind and it seemed to register in theirs too. I lifted my eyes to him, "I said that when we were going into war."

He nodded. It was an intimate thing to have him remember. Both he and Jonas refrained from speaking then, perhaps letting the words sink in. I slipped away from them. I leaned on the separating railing, watching them in the throes of the firelight. "They're not worth your life," I said. "I would like to tell you what they did, but I can't tell you to die for this or even to kill for this. These people...they're young. Misguided and angry. We all were once. I can't make up for what my family's done, and I can't promise that anyone is going to spare any lives. All I want from you is to promise me, if you can bring them in to Dracula's custody, you will. If you can't, don't draw it out. Snap a tree branch, drive it home. Sever the spinal cord before decapitation, make it a quick shot, just don't make it painful."  
I had seen in my mother's eyes how deeply she would've liked to hurt my friends. She wouldn't have been gentle, but that was what it came to. If I was going to be the better man, I wasn't going to torture anyone. I had already done that. Dracula knew. I didn't wait to hear their responses, but I pushed away. I turned, putting their little war behind me, and went to watch Zofie. I understood that she was the only reason why I intended to fight back personally, and I hoped that they understood as well.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

_Chapter Eighteen_

Aleksi was perched on the stairs beside Kale while Zofie danced back and forth across the landing. Their parents had been very quiet for a very long time, and the boys were starting to be worried. Zofie, however, couldn't have possibly cared less. She paused her twirling only to hold out her hands to both of them, "Well I can't just dance here all by myself."

"Do you think they're okay?" Aleksi asked. He looked a great deal like his parents, since there wasn't much genetic difference to have fought for dominance. He had deep red eyes, only slightly darker than Zofie's own, softly curled ebony hair and a very pale, round face. Whereas Kale and Zofie both had enough metaphorical color to hide their veins, a few of his prominent ones stood out starkly on his skin. Zofie sighed, wandering over to them and seating herself on the floor behind them, "Don't you know what they're doing? They're having a party."

"It's not a regular party," Aleksi replied, "My parents don't just leave town for parties."

"I heard your Daddy talk about one where they burned a man and your parents went all the way from Toronto to Colorado to see, and they couldn't remember any of it afterward."  
Aleksi smiled and threw her a glance, "My mom says the song in your music box is called _Annabelle Lee._"

Zofie shrugged, "I don't care what the name is, I want to dance to it, now are you going to dance with me or not?"

The bottom step groaned, causing the three children's gazes to snap to the foot of the stairs. Lucy eased up on it, blushing slightly, "Kale, a friend of Countess Devein's brought ponies. Do you want to go for a ride?"

All three children's reaction was immediate. They lurched to their feet and tore down the stairs, out to their parents.

I caught Zofie as she breezed across the floor, her eyes glinting, "Mama, is it true?! Are there ponies?!"

I glanced over my shoulder to Bram, who smiled slightly in amusement but hardly turned his gaze from the boys he was talking to. I kissed her forehead, "Yes, there are."

"Can I go? Oh Mommy, please? Can we go?"

"Hey, kiddo," Vinnie called to Aleksi, "You promise to stay with Zofie and Kale?"

He nodded. I glanced to Lucy, taking notice of how she slowly attempted to put on her shoes. I crossed the floor to her with Zofie tucked up in my arms, "I'll take them, Lucy."

"You would?" She asked, smiling with relief. Her eyes, though vibrant, betrayed her pale cheeks. I grasped her hand, "Of course. You just rest in here."

"Thank you," she replied, rising slowly. I helped her to her feet and into the den, making her comfortable before returning to fetch the boys. Kissing Bram's cheek lightly, I murmured, "Get her something. She doesn't look well."

He nodded, "Have fun, boys and girls."

With eager thanks and affirmations, the boys ran out ahead of us to the far part of the yard where Natasha and Ruth sat with a trio of horses. "Have fun with them," Ruth called, "They need a bit of exercise."

I hoisted the little boys onto one, instructing them to hold onto the saddle tightly before binding it to my own. The leaves rustled and I nearly went for the dagger sheathed in my skirt, but Valentine hopped nimbly up onto the free horse as if he'd done it every day. I rose a brow in his direction. He replied with a simple nod and a hand on the sword at his waist. "Overprotective little shit," I muttered under my breath. Zofie giggled as I hoisted her up before raising my skirts and doing the same. My dress draped comfortably under me, cushioning the hard leather just a bit. Val started off a bit ahead of us, and for the little ones' sake, I didn't try to catch up with him as much as I wanted to. The horses sauntered around the house, quickening to a light trot when we had reached the halfway point of the yard's perimeter. Zofie giggled at the light bouncing of the horse beneath us. We likely could've gone on for hours, but Bram was waiting at the trees beside our friends, and Zofie practically leapt into his arms.

"Everyone has made plans to stay overnight," he informed me, trying not to look pointedly at Kale. I scowled as I dismounted, "Do we have enough space?"

"Most are staying outside, but we're going to bring the horses in shortly. Maybe the three of you would like to share Zofie's room?"

She glared at them pointedly, "No. They're not allowed in until they dance with me."

Aleksi shrugged, "Okay."

That appeased her, and Bram set her down. I watched them race inside, only taking my eyes away from them when they had safely made it into the house. "Lucy isn't well enough to travel," Bram murmured, "She and Jonas are taking one of the outer rooms, but they're likely going to try to get her to the hospital in the morning."

I brushed my fingers slowly through the midnight dark mane of my horse. Everyone was settling in, our close friends indoors and the others outside. "They don't have to stay," I murmured, watching as a young woman whom I vaguely recognized brought her husband and her little pack of children into a tent he pitched himself from fallen wood and pine branches. I felt as if we were attempting to build our own castle village, and it felt wrong.

"They want to," he replied, "They want to make sure you know how loyal they are to you. Clawrk put emphasis on it. Even Dracula and Draculaura are staying, just not indoors."

I rose a brow. Val still wasn't back yet, and I sighed, "Is he planning on patrolling all night?"

"Val?" he asked, "No, I just sent him off with you."

We glanced to each other and I lifted myself onto my horse's back once more. He mounted as well, much to my surprise. "Our guests can wait a moment," he replied. "Your brother is a bit more important than sleeping arrangements."

"Zofie," I replied.

Natasha and Ruth rose, "We'll go watch them."

I glanced to them with the utmost gratitude. They just traded tiny smiles before wandering off toward the house and allowing my husband and I to take off after the path of Valentine's horse. My family hadn't come into the wealth for horses until the horse-and-buggy lifestyle was out of fashion, but I had ridden as a child on my grandfather's land. I used to pretend I was Morgana the witch queen out in hunt of King Arthur. I supposed this was as close to the fantasy as I would ever come.

Bram kept his horse at a light trot, significantly better the mounted soldier than I ever hoped to be. I forced myself to stay in pace with him, following Valentine's trail in the marshy earth down to the end of a downtrodden deer trail. I had been constantly aware of the sounds of animal life, but this place sounded richer. Everything was at peace here, our horses included. It was a small clearing, likely the place that he'd told Zofie was some kind of native burial ground, and I spied his horse grazing. For a heartbeat, panic surged in my chest. Then, Bram nudged me.

At first, I was relieved; Valentine was still the stupid playboy who could go off to relieve his physical needs with a girl at a whim, even in the threat of war. Then, I realized I knew exactly who he was romancing beneath the willow tree. I didn't know who to be more disgusted with, him for trying or her for letting him, but she was clearly not pushing him away. I couldn't hear them, but he was talking to Draculaura while he kissed her. I was burning with fury as I dismounted, "Hold the reigns."

Bemused, Bram took them from my hands. In my soft-soled shoes, I stormed across the damp grass. The breeze picked up the red hem of my skirt, billowing a bloody mist in my wake. She took notice of me before he did, shoving him away forcefully. He looked genuinely surprised until he saw me, then he just looked sheepish.

"How dare you," I hissed at him, "How dare you disrespect the loyalty of their pack to us. How dare you go off without warning, do you have any idea how _stupid_ you are?!" My voice built to a crescendo of fury. I hit his arm. He winced, about to explain himself. I cut him off, "No! You are not allowed to speak! For the love of Christ, Val, I took you in! I took in that damned rabbit, I let you tell my daughter wild stories and bring her in to something I didn't want her to have affiliation with until she was old enough to make her own decisions, I trusted you to go ahead of me and make sure the path was safe, did you even do that?!"

"Yes!" he interjected before I could continue on, "I made a full round before I met up with her, I'd never leave you alone, don't you understand that?! Seven years I've stood by you and I intend to do it indefinitely! I wouldn't put you or Zofie in danger, you know that."

"You already have," I hissed, "Imagine if you had left us alone and they'd come. Or if they cut us off from the others while we were looking for you. What if you'd been killed, what if Draculaura had been, you don't think with the head on your shoulders, do you?!"

"You're not my mother," he snapped, "Stop treating me like I'm a fucking child."

"Then stop acting like one," I growled. I turned my fury on my best friend, then, refusing to be done with either of them yet. "And you. You're engaged, you're the entire fucking reason this entire situation has worked out in everyone's favor thus far, start acting like it. If you loved Clawd, you wouldn't be fucking around in the woods with my brother like some common plebeian whore."

"You're not a fucking queen," Valentine snapped, "She is. Talking to her that way-"

Draculaura pulled away from him. "I wasn't," she murmured. "I kissed him, yes, but only because-"

"You don't owe her an explination," he tried to cut her off, addressing me then, "She doesn't owe you anything-"

"He needs the closure more than I do. It was a kiss goodbye, Gory. That's all."

"You didn't need to kiss him at all," I nearly snarled. She straightened, her eyes meeting my own. "I don't love him," she said, the firmness in her tone deliberate. "I never loved him. He was a novelty, he was a summer romance if that. I was attracted to him, yes, but it never went beyond that."

Valentine's expression was falling. He pressed his lips together firmly. I believed with all my heart that was what she'd been trying to tell him, yet he'd refused to hear.

"I loved you," he whispered, "Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

She turned, slowly, and whispered to him, "It does, but I can't make it mean what you want it to."

I suddenly felt very horribly for my brother. Draculaura started back, and Bram glanced to me. I nodded, allowing him to release my horse to take her back. The only woman my brother had ever truly loved was walking away from him, leaving him for someone she actually loved.

"Did you come to the conclusion or did she?" I asked.

He nodded, looking at me. He had. His eyes were brimming and I drew him in, "I'm sorry. She did love you once, if that helps."

He shook his head and turned sharply away. He mounted his horse, clearly anticipating a quick journey and yet refusing to leave without me. I pulled myself onto the hard leather saddle and nudged my horse on. I had wished that I had a brother like him when I was younger, to try to race back to the villa with. We did race, neck-in-neck until I slowed my horse and let him win. He tied the horse to the veranda rail and leapt over it, stalking inside without a second word. Draculaura was back with her friends and family, talking quietly and pretending to fall asleep against her fiancee. I didn't look at her as I rode up. We all had our motives, our reasons for being. She must've known that I understood; I knew she sensed my presence and I hoped she sensed my lack of judgement. I tied up my horse beside the other two, glanced to my friends as they settled into their makeshift barracks, and went into my palace of a home where the other prime nobility would carry out our lives as if we could forget on a whim what was transpiring out in the world.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

_Chapter Nineteen_

The forest was lovingly, beautifully quiet, and I couldn't sleep. Bram had fallen asleep quickly, no doubt reassured by the presence of others, but I wasn't so lucky. I checked on Zofie and the boys before returning to our room and propping open one of the covered windows to better hear the sounds of the night as I sat down to write. Sometimes I felt incapable of doing anything else. I had to admit, I was selfish in my reading and writing; there was always an escape in it for me. I remembered the age of the hunters, waiting up in the villa's attic during the day while my grandfather's servants tended to the grounds. There was even a little girl who looked like me, so the neighbors would think that I was her when they saw me at night. The stories I wrote assuaged the anxiety I had felt as a child, giving my characters the release to lash out and strike back and win the much-needed victory that I had always so longed for. It was hell to be dragged into someone else's war, I knew. When countries went to war, they dragged their occupants with them, and I, like many others, found no point in staying in a place where they fought stupid, silly battles. Yet, here I was, in a country that did just that, doing just that myself.  
The imperial army had gathered outside my protagonist's residence when I heard a whimper. It hadn't come from one of the rooms, so I rose to investigate. I looked outside, the gentle crescent moon beaming silver light down to my companions, several of whom still sat up around the fire. Draculaura was sleeping against her fiancee in the grass on the opposite side of the bonfire's circle, their parents still seated. Would they wait all night? I shut the window in protest to my fueled imagination, and nearly leapt out of my skin when the door creaked open.

Zofie stood in her pretty yellow pajamas, her eyes red and sleepy, "Kale's mommy is in the bathtub in their room. His daddy thinks she's having the baby. Kale said I should get you because you had me."

I relaxed, saving my draft and kissing her forehead, "You go back to sleep, and tell Kale to go back to sleep with you. I'll take care of his mommy."

She nodded and shuffled back off to bed. I heard her mutter, "She did it, now go to sleep," just before she shut the door. I crossed the hallway to the other wing and tapped lightly at Jonas and Lucy's door, "Lucy? Are you alright?"

Jonas called out, "We could actually use a hand, if you had a moment."

I slipped inside, careful not to disturb anyone else, and joined them in the bathroom. It seemed to be the only light in the entire house, and it took my eyes a moment to cope with it on the vivid white of the tile. Jonas looked terrified, and I could visibly tell why. Lucy had torn her lip open and she was clutching the side of the bathtub with potentially lethal force if it had been a human neck. Her eyes met mine and they were wild and vivid red, "My water didn't break." Her voice was hardly above a hissing gasp. I perched beside her regardless, "And you're having labor pains?"

"I'm in a lot of pain, it's not taking a break," she hissed through her bloody lips. I wasn't a doctor. I didn't know what should logically be done. Thinking as a vampire, with outdated medicinal knowledge that just about any fool could do, I thought it would be a good idea to induce it- but I'd rather not put their lives in danger if I didn't have to. "Wake Clawd," I said to Jonas, "Bring him up here."

He glanced at me desperately and I returned the gaze with one of my own, a silent reassurance that I would care for her in his absence. He rose, kissing her temple before ducking out in a flurry of simple pajamas. I assumed his place at her side, still perched on the edge. She grasped my hand as if contact would ease the pain. I brushed my fingers through her hair with a light sigh, "Is this the first time?"

Her eyes met my own and she shook her head, "Feeding pains, mostly. I had them with Kale too, but this is...labor. This is definitely labor."

While we waited, I ran my thumb slowly over her fingers. "When I was pregnant with Zofie, I was so paranoid," I murmured, "I had gone from region to region on our honeymoon, and it was early on so I hadn't thought much of traveling. When we got back, it was just before my senior year of high school."

"Oh good lord," she replied with a little laugh.

"All of my classes were very easy, don't get me wrong. School has always been child's play. But she was the first time I'd fathomed having a child, and I was obsessive. I kept worrying about how fast she'd grow or how slowly, I can't tell you how many places I tried to find out something besides how hard it was to chart progress on anything in natural-born vampires because so many were born in ages when the records were lost."

Lucy nodded, attempting to pace her breathing with my own. "She's really a darling. You and Bram hit the genetic lottery."

"So is Kale," I replied, squeezing her hand. "We're hoping for a boy when we try the next time."

"Never say you want something until five months after. If you plan on having boys, you'll have all girls, trust me. My parents knew what they were talking about." She had a very desperate, but still lovely smile, "I have all sisters."

I laughed, "Well, Kale's about to have one too."

Her grip tightened, her hand clenching to her stomach. I massaged her knuckles until the worst of it passed, in which she laughed with complete relief, "Oh thank god."

"There it goes," I teased, my fingers laced with hers.

The door opened, but neither Jonas nor Clawd slipped in. Instead, Natasha glanced at the both of us and muttered, "Honestly, nobody can stop talking in this house long enough for any insomniacs to get sleep." She came over and joined us, glancing to Lucy with an understanding smile, "If you think it would help, I have some painkillers in my bag. I'm headache prone."

Lucy laughed out loud. I resisted the urge to myself. Tash nudged me away, giving my achy hand a break. The boys didn't take very much longer, and with so many of us piled in one space, I took the opportunity to slip away. The rest of my sphere was so blissfully unaware that I felt as if life were simply a pattern of interconnecting spheres, and mine didn't happen to cross with theirs at the moment. I checked in on Zofie before readying for bed, and before fully powering down and settling in, I propped open the window again. As the light of my screen went dark, and the gentle click of my laptop's closure snapped into place, the entire room was bathed in darkness. A little moonlight trickled from behind the heavy, creme colored inner curtain, the sounds of the crackling fire and the occasional laugh mingling with the night insects.  
I crawled into bed and tugged the light sheet over myself. Despite my total disconnection from the outside world, I couldn't force myself to sleep. I shifted to my side, glancing at Bram while he slept. One arm stretched back above his head, the other held his pillow comfortably beneath it. His pulse was soft and slow, each breath deep and even. Poets didn't lie when they spoke of someone asleep. He looked so at peace when he slept, not at all like he had anything to worry for. His face was very innocent, and I loved it with all of my being. I laid my head on his chest and snuggled in, my eyes falling closed against his smooth, warm skin.

In the hollow sound of my own breathing, I realized it was completely silent just before I fell asleep.

...

I snapped awake. Gory's breath was at my ear, and I could hear the quiet sounds of voices and crackling flames, but the rest of the world was silent. I set her head gently on the pillow and tugged the window shut. Perhaps it was my speed, but the others below had taken notice. I didn't worry about waking them; I threw on a shirt and descended the stairs to find suitable weaponry. Blade in hand, I threw open the door and stepped forth, only to be momentarily blinded by headlights.

Jay-Z was blaring out of the speakers of the fully-loaded vehicle as it rolled up to a buckling stop in front of the house. I sighed, sheathing the sword I'd picked up as my brother leapt out of the driver's side. Gradually, the animals began budging again.  
Sean had never had a large inclination to changing much. He still had an army cut and his shirt was cut to show off the scar from when he'd gotten shot. He crossed the lawn and wrapped his arms around me, hugging me against my will, "Just the man I wanted to see!"

"It's half after two," I nearly snapped. "What the hell are you doing?"

The other doors opened, and as much as I wanted to snap at the lot of them, I refrained. Collin, Liam and Brandon climbed out of the back. Of all the nights for my relatives to appear, and ahead of schedule at that...  
"Y' didn't think he'd keep ya here, did ya?"  
Besides my wife, I had never been happier to hear a woman's voice before in my life. I stepped away from my brother and pulled open the passenger door, quirking a brow toward the sole occupant left in the car. Rain looked down at me, her surge of lively crimson curls a far cry from my fair-haired cousins. She quirked her head toward me, waiting until I extended my hand to pull her free. Like a little girl, she launched herself into my arms and locked her arms around my neck, "Gaelin sends his regards."

"And when you return, you best give him mine," I said, squeezing her with all of my strength. She laughed, her slim little figure tucked so neatly in my arms. She was still at the age of hardly being a woman in body, though I could see in her eyes that she had aged as much as I had. I kissed her forehead firmly. She wiped it away, beaming widely. "I wanna see the girls," she said, her eyes sparkling with alertness.

"You slept half the trip, didn't you?" I replied, setting her on her booted feet.

She beamed, "Yanno it. So, where do I sleep?"

"We're having some guests at the moment, but I do suppose I could situate you in a nice room," I replied. Collin popped the trunk and Brandon slapped my shoulder firmly, trying to come off as bigger and stronger than he looked, "Nice of you to host a party for us."

"The party wasn't for you," I replied, "It was so we could enjoy a little Rain in our parade."

Of all of my cousins, Rain was my favorite. She had been born less than a decade after her brother and I had fought together, and though she was hardly more than a little girl, she had the wit and humor of someone long past her age. She pulled a thick camping bag from the back and glanced expectantly to me. I turned to my brother, "These all?"

"What, did you want the whole family?" he asked. I offered my arm to my baby cousin and led her to the door, pausing at its entryway. "Rain, Collin, Brandon, Liam. Only the four of you are welcome inside."

"Aw, you're just gonna leave me outside?" Sean teased.

"You've been here before," I replied. Rain's lovely face darkened, but only momentarily. When she saw the house, her brows rose. "Wow," she breathed, "It's a bloody _manor_."

I released her arm to give her freedom of exploration. "The South wing is where our guests are housed now. Gory, Zofie and I live in the North. You and the boys will share the rooms in the east, if that's alright with you."

"Y' named your bedrooms?" she asked. She did a complete turn on the floor, hair swishing about her delicate face as she moved. Her wide, expectant gaze landed on me again, and with complete, childish disregard to anyone else, she dashed up the stairs in a flurry. I could hear key chains and buttons clinking on her body as she went. Although I could've kept her out of trouble, I waited instead until Sean had pulled into the garage and led the other four up in one trip.

Apparently she had come across one of the other living spaces and determined where to go from there. There weren't very many rooms in the Easternmost part of the house, but she had found one suited for her. There was a royal purple duvet on the bed, and the walls were paneled in velvet of the same color. Silver-adorned fixtures draped in gossamer white like an Irish frost, and when I wandered in, I found her with her face buried in the pillows. She inhaled the scent of fabric softener and jumped when I sat beside her.

"There's basic things in the bathroom," I murmured to her, "Soap, shampoo, that lot. There might be some perfume...I think Gory set this room up for a girl. But if you need more beyond that, I'm sure you can ask her in the morning."

Her face was buried in a round, bead-trimmed pillow made of opulent fabric, and she lifted it to look at me. "It's prettier than my room at home."

"You and Gory are going to get along well," I murmured, "She has a better taste for champagne than any other woman I've met in my lifetime."

Whether Rain caught my metaphor or not went unknown to me, but she lowered her head back into the pillows with her camping bag on the floor. I rubbed her back until the breathing beneath my palm became deep and even. She reminded me a great deal of Zofie. I pried off her shoes and dusted off her socks to ensure she wasn't bringing in any pests of any sort, and I tucked her under the roll of the duvet as the air conditioning automatically made itself known.


	20. Chapter Twenty

_Chapter Twenty_

I rose early to oversee everyone's departure. Lucy had been in labor most of the night, according to Natasha, and finally when it seemed too desperate, Jonas and Clawd took her to a proper hospital. She and Vinnie remained when everyone else had cleared out, and with the little ones roused, we waited on Bram to make plans.

Vinnie sat at the counter, nursing his coffee while remaining partially asleep in his seat. Natasha entertained Kale and Aleksi, but Zofie's eyes were off at the flitting birds outside the window. I heard a yawn and a shuffling of feet and looked up with a greeting for Bram on my lips, only to raise my brows as a slender young woman shuffled in. Vaguely familiar, she went about making her own coffee as if it were her own home, and even Vinnie roused himself to watch her. She discovered where we housed the meat and eggs, and she began adding to what I'd already prepared.

"Hey, hot stuff," Vinnie called, leaning over the counter. She froze, her head lifting as if she'd just realized there were other people in the room. "What 'cha doin'?"

She turned, slowly, and her eyes landed on all of us. Immediately, her face went as red as a carnation. Valentine came loping down the stairs and paused, his brows raised in much the same look Vinnie was giving the newcomer. I shed my robe and threw it over her, even if she was fully clothed in a pair of denim shorts that fell to her knees and an ordinary gray shirt. "Excuse you both."

I broke the silence that seemed to radiate through the room. Natasha got up and smacked her husband gently upside the head. Valentine went over to the table, and I heard Aleksi whisper to Kale, "There's a _girl_."

"Rain," she replied, throwing the young boys a look. "M' name is Rain."

The momentary confusion broke instantly. I broke into a grin, "Rainy, from the wedding."

She rolled her eyes and turned back to cooking, "I hope y' don't mind, but Collin, Liam and Brandon eat like y' wouldn't believe."

"There are more of you?" Vinnie asked.

"There's only one of her," Valentine said more quietly. I resisted the urge to throw my slipper at the side of his head- she didn't even look legal age, for Christ's sake! She was slim, athletically muscled and full-hipped. But that was about the only full part of her besides her hair, she had a relatively flat chest and nonexistent curves. Her cherry-syrup colored eyes fell to the skillet while she grilled bacon and eggs slathered in bacon grease, and Vinnie glanced to me, "I'm sorry babe, but that smells a thousand times better than your healthy version."

I rolled my eyes, but took note of her cooking for future reference. It permeated the room and slithered off into the house, so much so that I only had to wait a few moments before I heard footsteps on the stairs and more than one set at that. Someone broke into a run and burst through the kitchen entryway before I fully processed who it was- my coffee-addled mind was still awakening.

"Gory!" Sean shouted, lifting me off the floor. I held on tightly to his shoulders, smothered in firm kisses that he pressed to my cheeks. He set me down, giving me a chance to glimpse the other relatively fair-haired boys of the Devein clan and I opened my arms for them. He pointed them out- Brandon with the square jaw and button nose, Liam with the slender body and color-rich lips, and Collin, almost directly proportional to Sean in his physical body, but with much thicker hair and a tattoo across the back of his shoulder blades that I could see the top of from his shirt. I squeezed them all in turn and went to making coffee.

"We've been dyin' to see ya since we left," Sean said as I poured him a cup of coffee, "So, which one is yours?"

Zofie glanced at them and glanced shyly to the floor. Collin smiled into his cup. They glanced at her, obviously understanding, but waited until Bram trailed after them. He beelined for me, catching my waist and kissing my cheek before crossing around the table to scoop up Zofie, "Good morning, princess."

"Ah, I thought I spied a little Wednesday," Sean replied with a beaming smile. No matter how much he teased her, it only made her progressively more shy. Rain glanced to me and abandoned her cooking, which I took over for her instantly. Her arms outstretched, she accepted Zofie from Bram and received no protest. Zofie held her closely, smiling slightly. "How ya doin', little one?"

"Okay," Zofie replied, clutching her shirt. With the bacon still greasy and the eggs slathered in it, I spooned the food out onto plates and poured out the rest. I brought the food over to the boys, entertaining their hunger with refreshments at their whim.

"What'd you do t' her?" Sean teased his brother, "She's gone domesticated on us."

"I had a baby," I replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I learned how to make animal pancakes."

Sean chuckled, "Good lord. But you're fightin' with us, yea?"

The entire table went quiet. I withdrew a few blood bags from the refrigerator and added them to the coffee in silence. Bram glanced to me, waiting for my reply as everyone else did.

"I don't know," I admitted, "I guess it all depends if you need me or not." I rested my hand on Bram's shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze, "I do have the most capable people in the world right here."

"Nah, you're thinkin' of Rainy over there," Liam spoke up. "She might not 'a lived through the war, but she fights like it."

I turned to glance at the girl cradling my daughter and wasn't surprised to find her rolling her eyes. She had her own plate and her own food, and she multitasked balancing Zofie on her hip and eating quite well. "They like to underestimate me."

My brows rose. Zofie glanced up at her, the curiosity in her eyes obvious. "Can you show me?"

Sean sighed. It must've been a question he heard very often, but Zofie found it interesting regardless. Rain set her down and wolfed down her food with impressive speed. None of the boys hurried, not even Bram. The way she prepared had me curious. As Rain picked up a steak knife, Zofie's eyes lit up.

"I will bet you food for a week that I can catch you a bird without hurting it," she said, her voice lowered to make her words more interesting to Zofie's ears. My daughter's wide, garnet eyes only brightened as she nodded. She took one glance outside and went for the door, opening it in a flash and throwing the knife.

There was enough force in the throw to pin it in the stone, and though it had been aimed at one of the doves on the railing, the bird instantly shot into the kitchen. Instead of Zofie catching it, though, I reached upward and cupped my hands, allowing it to fly into my palms. Rain went out to fetch the knife and I held the bird while it processed what was going on. Gently, I knelt so not to scare it, and allowed Zofie to pet its back. The soft, gray-brown feathers quivered under her fingers.

"We've got to let it go," I murmured to her.

She nodded, kissed its head and allowed me to release it into the yard.

"Sociopath," Brandon muttered as Rain passed me.

"And for once, it's not Bram," Sean replied, raising his coffee mug as if to acknowledge an accomplishment.

Rain snapped at them in Gaelic and sent me into a spree of uncontrollable laughter. Her brows rose, eyes widening. She looked to Bram in shock, likely that he'd _dare_ teach me such dirty language. "Ye taught her?"

"She taught herself," Bram replied, "I'm not responsible for everything she does, Rainy."

She looked at me with reverence. It was probably the first time she had ever heard those words, and I knew what freedom they held. She smiled slowly, glancing down to Zofie and then myself once again. I nudged my daughter toward the sink and she sighed, but obligingly went to wash her hands. I nudged her up onto the child step by the sink, and as I passed Rain, I spoke to her quietly. "You're impressive in tactic, we're going to need that."

She leaned back on the counter and shrugged, "Doesn't need to be a storm to bring the Rain."

"Oh fer cryin'..." Sean muttered. Zofie laughed, though, giving Rain's pun a bit of ground to work with. She had no idea how greatly I understood her. I had been young and rebellious once too, seeking the approval that I was set to give her. Maybe we did all change hands with time, and she could flourish with me the way I had with Maggie. I dried my hands and pulled her in for a tight embrace. She stiffened, but relaxed, smiling easily with relief.

"How long are you boys staying?" I asked, careful to leave Rainy out of my question so I could ask her on her own whether she would like to delay her return.

"However long you need us," Sean replied.

I allowed the sentiment to hang in the air and fill the room with a love greater than narcissism, and a sense of family stronger than I had ever felt outside this house.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

_Chapter Twenty-One_

Draculaura was having the delicate pink lace pinned in curves along the train of her dress. She looked like a storybook princess with her hair freshly streaked and pinned back around a small, silver comb. She clutched a makeshift bouquet of peonies, gathered especially for the occasion. Her eyes kept flitting to the space in the digital mirror where Zofie and I waited, but I hadn't said a word. Clawdeen was sipping her iced coffee and sketching, waiting for the bridesmaids' turn to be dressed like the rest of us, but with much greater occupation.

"How's your father coming on your security detail?" I teased.

"Alright," she replied.

"Hush, don't breathe," Paul teased, "Only happy thoughts allowed in this room."

"But it is a happy thought, my dearest," I teased, "I've become the late Countess Bathory. They'll fear me and revere me by my maiden name despite my marriage to one of the most spectacular men on the planet."

"I couldn't tell you, I didn't know him personally," Paul reminded me. I pouted and toasted my glass to him. Zofie watched him intently as he measured perfectly even ruffles in Draculaura's skirt, draped with perfect, delicate waves of pink lace. My best friend looked more a woman than she ever had, her rather recently developed bust slightly bared in the delicately embroidered bodice. "All you're missing is puffy sleeves, Cinderella," I teased. Frankie beamed. Clawdeen snorted.

"Oh shut up, just because I didn't want to be Akasha at my wedding like you did doesn't mean you have to tease me."

"Tease you? My luscious, pure and innocent one? Oh no, teasing you would be far worse than pointing out you're likely to bust out into song in ten minutes or less. But if the birds join you, I'm going to see a doctor."

She rose a delicate brow, making me smirk. I took another sip of champagne and continued, "Clearly I've lost my mind staring at all the pink."

"Shush," Frankie replied, "It's gorgeous, Lala."

"I never said it wasn't gorgeous, just that I expect her to show up in a pumpkin carriage with all of her woodland friends, singing something out of _Enchanted._"

Zofie shifted and glanced around, admiring the fabrics. Paul caught her glance and beamed, "Go, wander little one. You're a clean and well-behaved child, I don't mind."

Zofie broke into a beaming smile and climbed off the sofa, dashing off into the rows of fabric in his studio. I didn't worry about her here; nobody would dare cross Paul Bathory-Nadasy, not with his family's reputation. As he withdrew to admire his work, he spoke to me, "Answer me honestly, did I help create her?"

"Likely," I replied, "He didn't even last until after the reception. She might've been conceived before we left for the honeymoon at all."

Clawdeen shook her head, "I'll never understand you two."

"If you're not enjoying it, he's not doing it right," I replied, causing Draculaura to glance back with horror in her eyes, "Aren't you still with Thad?"

Frankie, Paul and I burst into laughter as both females' faces flushed. "Well then, maybe our husbands need to sit the boy down and teach him what goes where," I teased. Frankie blushed too, bringing Paul's sparkling eyes to my own. "If your husband gives you a hall pass, I'll teach him myself."

"Can I honestly admit that I had no idea you were remotely interested in playing for my team?" I replied. He laughed, winked and quirked his hips, "Honey, I bat for whatever team is winning."

We all giggled, watching our friend's face flush crimson. Draculaura squirmed in place, staring at herself in the screen, "Do you think he'll like it?"

"He better," Paul replied as my daughter came dashing out from the silks with a wide grin on her face. I set down my glass and opened my arms for her, unable to contain a smile of my own as she climbed into my arms, "Guess what?"

"What?" I replied, pressing her close to me.

"I wanna get a dress for Rainy."

"Rainy?" Draculaura asked.

"Bram's cousin," I explained, "She's come to stay with us while this whole mess is sorted out. She comes from a less wealthy part of the family that married in before the wars broke out."

"How less wealthy are we talking, because you set a pretty unrealistic expectation?" Clawdeen asked.

"Ron's family in Harry Potter," I replied. Clawdeen scowled. Draculaura rolled her eyes, "They weren't _that poor_, Gory. They put all of their kids through school and had some money left over, not to mention they were role models in the series."

I shrugged; maybe I had set unrealistic expectations for wealth. I just couldn't imagine a life without money. Even when my parents hadn't exactly had money of their own, my grandparents had given all of us whatever we wanted. As if the trusts weren't enough, Dracula had made sure I had become the sole holder of the entire Fangtell inheritance. Naturally, that hadn't left the business to me, but at this point, I didn't care. I had set up a trust for Valentine and left it as it was. I glanced down to Zofie and nudged her up, "Alright then, show me what you think she'd like."

She grabbed my hand and tugged me up with her. I laughed, the force of her pulling almost enough to tug my arm clean from the socket. I rose with her and allowed her to spirit me away into the layers of silk and satin. She paused, picking up the hem of purple velvet beside black silk and some ivy print black lace. Mentally, I appraised her taste. "That would actually be lovely on her."

She beamed, "Can we bring her and do it?"

I shrugged, "If she wants to, I don't see why not."

Delighted, Zofie ran back to the wedding party and climbed in Frankie's lap. I took my time following her, appraising fabrics as I went. My eyes lifted from the embroidered cloths to notice Draculaura as she twirled, her heavily layered skirt hardly moving in her turn. She had gorgeous, floral lace on her bodice, rose colored satin ribbon crossing the front and back of her dress. She looked ready for a Victorian ball, and her bared shoulders quivered nervously. Frankie nudged Clawdeen to look up, and the young she-wolf did a double take before beaming, "Paul, I think I love you."

"Get in line, gumdrop," he teased. His eyes fell upon me, taking Frankie and Zofie's smiles for the appraisal that they were. I wandered over and clasped her face in my palms, "When I see you all made up with your jewelry on, ready to go join that boy in marriage, I'm going to cry and not a thing on this earth is going to stop me."

"Shh," she murmured, her eyes brimming already. I shook my head, the familiar warmth of tears pooled in my eyes. I traced her cheeks with my thumbs, imagining the rouge she'd have brushed there, her delicate, waterproof mascara, her perfectly done lips and delicate throat surrounded by diamonds or pearls.

"You are the most beautiful girl I have seen away from my daughter and my reflection in my entire life," I said honestly.

She laughed, a single tear dripping down her cheek toward my hand, "Leave it to you to make my wedding about yourself."

I brushed the tear away, shaking my head, "No. You'll always outshine me. It's the goodness in your heart that makes you so lovely."

Her lips quivered. I stepped up onto the platform with her and squeezed her with all my strength. Her dress was soft, already well-built enough to withstand the exchange of adoration. Tears ran from her eyes and touched my neck as she buried her face against me. "I don't deserve your friendship," she murmured so only I could hear.

"We all make mistakes," I breathed in her ear, "Valentine seems to be everyone's mistake."

She squeezed me with all the force she could muster. I felt a gentle nudge against my shoulder and she withdrew to accept tissues from Paul before flinging open her arms, "Don't think you two are getting out of this!"

Clawdeen rushed up to take the first spot, throwing her arms around our mutual best friend and squeezing her. Her hands were closed into fists, making it impossible for her claws to catch the beautiful fabric. I glanced to Paul, "You know you'll have to take into account the claws, right?"

"Already ahead of you," he replied with a teasing wink. Zofie hugged Draculaura's side, intruding on her hug with Clawdeen, causing Laura to divert her attention and scoop her up into the hug for a moment before setting her down once again. I glanced to Paul, watching his face for any measure of give-away. He returned my look with a tiny smile, "Sweetheart, I care not for politics, but I do care for you and my cousin. Don't ask me to fight for you, but I will stand by you."

I kissed his cheek. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, offering tissues to me, "She's all grown up."

"Oh good god," I whispered, "I feel like I'm marrying off one of my children."  
What a lot of people took as self-serving interest in her, it wasn't. My love for Draculaura ran as deep as most sisters could reach. She had been undoubtedly innocent upon my arrival- an innocence blessed to her by the scars of her past. I knew I hadn't helped much, but I had done for her vastly more than her other friends had or would. When he had left her, I had dried her tears. When she was alone and feuding with her father over her health, I had given her a family and secretly stayed up all night, dosing her with human blood to make her well. And now, I would have to put my faith in Clawd that he would take as good of care of her as I had tried to. Zofie came to me, seeing the tears darkened with makeup trickle down my face, and she squeezed my side. I rested my hand onto her head for a moment before accepting the tissues from Paul, trying not to sob. My little Lala had grown up so fast.

"Spooning with another man?" Bram asked as he walked in from the studio stairs. Liam and Rain trailed after him, and I saw the visible horror in the younger boy's expression while a measure of resigned wonder entered Rain's eyes. I didn't break away from Paul to kiss my husband, but rather allowed him to join in the circuit. He smiled, kissing my lips and beneath my eyes before turning his eyes to Draculaura. He exhaled and chuckled lightly, "You look glorious, your highness."

"Oh shut up!" she squeaked, dashing off the platform from embracing Frankie to throw her arms around him. He hugged her wholeheartedly, kissing the top of her head and murmuring, "And if he ever breaks your heart again, I'll kill him."

She shook her head; seven years had taken that thought from her mind just as four hundred had taken away Valentine from her life. I knew he was supposed to have come with Bram. I knew he wouldn't have wanted to after he'd professed his true feelings for her and been rejected. I had known all along that he loved her as deeply, if not more, than I had. As he released her, she looked to Paul and dabbed her eyes, "Thank you."

"Thank me when it's over," he replied, breaking away from me to whisk her off to change. Bram's arm wound around us, pinning Zofie between us. I kissed him wholeheartedly once again, grateful that I had the completion of my heart as she had hers.

"How's your head?" he murmured. The anxiety of her wedding had set in the night before while we discussed plans on the phone; if she wasn't getting any sleep, imagine how well I was doing.

"Fine," I murmured. Coffee, liquor and asprin had mingled into an airy warmth. I felt strong enough to clash with a bull.

"Rain," Zofie called, summoning the young woman to us. She smiled as she scooped up Zofie, my little girl clinging affectionately to her. "I wanna get you something pretty too."

Her eyes darted to me in surprise. So did my husband's. I smiled openly, "It's the least I can do to thank you for coming all the way from Ireland for us."

She shrugged, "It's no trouble at all. Anything I can do t' help, t' thank ya, t' repay ya for putting you out..."

I shook my head, "You haven't put anyone out. In fact..." Despite Bram's obvious surprise, I voiced my thought from earlier in the day. "If you would like to stay, I would be honored to have you as our guest for however long as you'd like."

Her jaw dropped. She looked at Bram. He looked at me and gave me a gentle squeeze, "Are you sure?"

"Why not?" I replied, "She's no second child, but you love her and Zofie's taken to her well, and if anything I'm impressed." I paused, watching the adoration and excitement fill his eyes. I could've blushed. "Nothing would make me happier than to see you happy with your family close to you again."

He threw open his arm and she rushed into it, squeaking with joy. He held the three of us tightly, beaming like a man relieved. He kissed me firmly, "I hoped you'd get along. I knew you'd like her."

"Thank ye," Rain began in an excitedly rushed tone, "Thank ye, thank ye! Whatever ya need, Gory, anythin' at all-!"

I shook my head and brought her into my arms, "I want to enroll you at Monster High in the fall. We're going to get you a dress and we're going to bring you into this family properly. I want to meet your family and thank them for letting you come and hope they'll let you stay."

There were tears in her eyes as she hugged Bram again. Zofie laughed, pinned in Rain's other arm. They murmured to each other in muted Irish Gaelic and he kissed her forehead warmly, "Zo, go show her what you thought."

Zofie grinned, pointing toward the stack of fabrics she'd emerged from, "Go that way." I could tell she was enthused to have someone who wouldn't put her down all day if she didn't ask to be. I nuzzled into my husband's side, "I'm glad I've made you all so happy."

"You tend to do that to everyone," he replied, "You have a good heart too."

I could've asked how long he'd been listening, but I simply squeezed his side instead. He traced his fingers through my hair and murmured, "I can't wait to see that bridesmaid dress."

He knew something I didn't know. I lifted my head as Draculaura emerged and motioned to me, and I caught sight of it at last. I burst out laughing, "_Laura Wolf!_" Her grin was full of mischief, full of adoration and love. I couldn't help myself from shaking my head, "I love you, but I swear to you before the higher powers that I am not wearing pink, no matter what you do!"

She didn't stop laughing at me, even when she showed me the real dress. Sometimes I'd like to think she'd be happy to give me a heart attack, as if I didn't have enough on my plate to do just that without her.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

_Chapter Twenty-Two_

We returned to find Bram had taken the boys off to converse with Dracula, and our yard and home was abandoned of people besides our extended family.  
Rain made herself at home at the kitchen table, unpacking various shoes, clothes and miscellaneous goodies that we'd accumulated while shopping. I placed a new cookbook in the holster on the counter before fetching the laundry basket and separating the bit of new clothes I'd gotten for myself. Zofie watched and mimicked me, finding the task rather simple. Rain swooped in quickly and added her clothes to the stack, blushing at its quick rise, "I can go do it, if you don't mind them in the same wash."

I rose a brow, "Why would I mind? We haven't worn them before, and it's safer to wash beforehand-"

She nodded quickly and scooped it up, "Where's your laundry tub?"

Zofie giggled, "It's a washing machine here, silly. I'll show you."

Rain followed her obediently, more like a servant than a guest. I scooped up the rest of their things and took them to their respective rooms, leaving them to be unpacked on their own. From my open window, I caught sound of the Impala's purring engine and smiled. I tore the tags from a few new necklaces and clipped the plastic holsters off a pair of rings, arranging everything safely in my jewelry box. I took pride in the little skills Zofie had picked up on so far in her life, even though most of them were just preparing machines and their contents. She had it much easier than I had at her age, and for that I was immensely grateful.

I cleaned up the house a bit while the boys were away, traveling from room to room making beds and picking up clothes, stowing away their packed and unpacked bags and the general like. I changed the dressings of the beds in the abandoned guest rooms, continuing my general tidiness until I returned downstairs and carried out the same. By the time I put dinner on, Rain and Zofie were upstairs with their new things, I had grown used to the staccato purring of Vinnie's car, and the boys had just returned.

Most didn't enter right away, to my surprise. The three cousins lingered outside the garage with Vinnie, chatting about cars and girls. Valentine was working and Natasha had taken Kale home and brought Aleksi with her into town, but all of that aside, I was still incapable of having peace and quiet.

Sean joined Bram and I in the kitchen despite the fact that I was cooking and didn't want to be bothered. He sat in one of the chairs, observing in silence as my husband stole a little kiss and wrapped his arms around me, "I'm beginning to regret this already."

I smiled tersely, understanding completely. Yes, it was a shame to have so many empty rooms in one house all the time, but the last thing I had wanted was for the constant interruption that came with other people. Rain was absolutely nothing like her cousins, maybe that was why I enjoyed her company.

"Y'know, you should hire a staff-" Sean began. I looked up at him with the raw fury reserved for dealing with children that weren't my own. He silenced immediately, taking the visible threat for its worth.

"They do an excellent job of staying off the radar," Bram murmured gently, telling me what I wanted to know, "Dracula's had the imperial guard on them since, but they haven't found a trace."

I shrugged as he gathered my hair back and released my clip. I could've shook my head, but I allowed him to twist it into a delicate twirl against the back of my head and pin it up, giving him full access to my neck and allowing him to pepper light kisses there. "They will," I murmured.

Sean sighed audibly, shifting to make himself known, "I can't help feeling like we're missing something."

"Should you be doing something for work?" I asked, hoping he took the hint and left us alone. I did seem to remind him of something, as he got to his feet and took off like a bat out of hell. Bram chuckled and traced my collarbone delicately. "I want to take you girls down to do something in town over the weekend," he murmured.

"Draculaura's bachelorette party?" I asked.

He laughed, "Please. She's never enjoyed being unmarried, why celebrate it?" His mouth teased my neck lightly. He took the opportunity in full of our privacy to tug my hips back against his, ensnaring my waist gently to spoon against the counter. "Besides, I won't enjoy myself with Clawd. He can try to resist other women all he likes, I'll just be imagining all of them as you."

"All of them?" I asked, "Is he going to a strip bar?"

"Romulus is taking him there," he murmured, "Valentine and I were invited, as the family of the bridesmaid."

I shrugged, "Draculaura's mostly accepting her wedding shower gifts and having a sleepover with the girls from high school. I really am glad I bought her things she could actually use in her life." As per our daughter's brilliance, of course.

"Hm?" he murmured, nibbling my neck, "What'd you get her?"

"Things off her wish list," I replied. "Cute clothes, _The Addams Family_ series, books...what she wanted."

He chuckled, "Good. Because apparently, Clawd's family got them a house and Dracula pretty much took care of everything else."

I shrugged, willing to be outdone. "I have to finish dinner," I protested his lingering lips without much resolve.

"One bite," he murmured. I turned the heat of the skillet down to a slow simmer and bared my neck. His fangs sunk in swiftly, a pinch that nearly released an ecstatic gasp from my lips. I loved the feeling of being fed from. It was the ultimate trust, the ultimate dependence. Human blood satiated our needs, but our hunger for each other was much more intimate. Every drop he drank brought us closer, intoxicated the both of us on each other a little more. He fed from my vein, attempting not to make me lightheaded, but the rush always came that way. I melted into his arms freely, allowing him to support me with his mouth bent to my neck. My blood flowed freely for him, kissed and lapped away with the utmost adoration. My veins sang for him. What felt all too quickly, he withdrew and offered his wrist to me. I kissed it softly, moving my mouth to the inside of his elbow to kiss again. He practically purred with delight.

"One moment," I murmured, prolonging his suffering just a moment. He didn't resist kissing the tender spot on my neck until I squirmed in an attempt not to giggle. I swatted his arm, dishing out dinner before turning myself to him. He pinned me against the counter, removing the skillet from my hands and setting it on the stovetop before winding his iron-clad grip around my body once again. I leaned forward and very gently nibbled his neck. His soft, golden locks brushed my cheek, and the velvet of his skin tempted me half-mad. I brushed my tongue against his pulse and soaked in the little growl of delight that passed his perfect lips, red with my blood. My fangs felt like twin razors at my lips as they pierced his vein and gave him the relief he sought, to feed and be fed from equally.  
I couldn't remember feeding from my mother as a baby, but I knew that I had never felt a safer embrace than when I pressed myself close to him this way. My fingers wound in his shirt, my lips pressed to his skin, his sweet, rich blood flowing into my mouth with a taste finer than any candy or wine. I slipped my fangs from the wound and traced my tongue across it. His hips bumped my own and I resisted a smile. His fingers traced my spine slowly, indulging in our closeness, more intimate than lovemaking in so many ways. I kissed the little punctures shut, brushing away the healing drops with my tongue. Even healed, I didn't stop my nuzzling and kissing. Affection for him knew no bounds.

"I love you," he murmured, pressing his lips to my forehead.

I moved my lips from his neck to capture his in a warm, soft, smoldering kiss of my own. I had set an unrealistic precedent for my best friend; surely she wanted the life that Bram and I had made for each other, but these results were the farthest from typical. He withdrew, returning my attention to the knowledge that we were not alone in the house, and Rain joined us with Zofie in tow. Our little princess was lapping up every ounce of affection she could get.

"Did you want me to-?" Rain began, but I simply shook my head. "Grab a plate and enjoy yourself. I can make more if we run low."

The smile she gave me was laced with enough gratitude to make my heart warmer. I smiled in return and kissed her forehead as if she were my own child as well. With Bram's hands on my hips, I came to the realization that I had generally inherited five children that weren't my own. I made a mental note to ask him how the rest ran in the family, but the part of me that had forgotten where I had originated seemed to suddenly remember three centuries ago, in a little vineyard villa, a large family of happy people. A little girl like Zofie had lived once, as inquisitive as the world around her and hellbent on knowing and understanding everything. A little girl with parents who loved her and a family that had been more than her mother and father, with so many cousins so interchangeable that they all felt like siblings. My cousins were mostly boys like Collin and Sean, crowding up most of the attic as we looked out for Crusaders, my eye at the peephole in the wooden panel while they whispered every minute or so for an update that never changed. It was still sunny. People were still farming. Maybe a family or two wandered by on their way to market. And we would fall asleep there to be found by our parents, ready to combat hidden enemies that we knew nothing of- because they were our parents' enemies. Our kind's enemies, and we were protected by a king who could only do so much.

"I love your family," I murmured to him, even as the boys gushed in and took more food than should've been humanly possible.

"Really?" he asked.

"You haven't met much of mine."


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

_Chapter Twenty-Three_

The updates continued that way for days afterward. The rebels had not come out of hiding, but worst came to worst, they would find out where they originated and lure them out of hiding. Rain had begun working with Zofie and Aleksi on their archery skills, and between our suddenly full house and Draculaura's wedding, I was left with no time to properly carry out my grief. It felt too brief. The tears I had shed for my mother once felt like they had needed to be doubled for my father, who hadn't planned on joining this hideous crusade, but only had because of love and a strange sense of justice. It felt as if both of our dreams had come true, though. I hoped he knew that in whatever celestial afterward there was. He had wanted me to be the queen in the castle upon the hill, and on that particularly misty afternoon, I felt as if I were just that.

Rain, Liam and Brandon were in the fields below with Aleksi and Zofie. Though I couldn't hear them, I watched my young ward guide my daughter's hands on her own bow, crafted overnight from a fallen tree branch and tightly-wound laces of spare horse hair she'd carried for her own bow. Zofie was a natural. All of her youthful prowess had already been fine-tuned and self-disciplined. I watched her with pride as she raised her cherubic face, stared directly off into the fog with her cousin's hand on her shoulder, and when it fell came the release of the bow. They waited a moment before Brandon went off after it. It must've been a direct hit. I smiled; they high-fived. The look of triumph on her darling face awoke a passion that had been dormant for years. I turned away from the window of the upper library to my husband and spoke with deliberate power in my tone, "Let's go spar."

His head raised instantly. With stray books around him, his laptop was nestled in a crevice of them, power cord trickling down from them like a burst in a dam. He took sight of my tea, my summer dress and my teasing smile and nodded, "Yeah, sure, later-"

"Now," I pressed, crossing the room to him.

He looked me over and pushed his chair back ever so slightly. I slipped into the open space and situated myself on his lap. My fingers were warm from my teacup and he took notice as I brushed them over his neck. "You're serious," he murmured.

I set my teacup down on the desk beside his computer, "As death, my love."

He glanced to his work and sighed, saving it much as I did mine upon his intrusion. A slight smile touched his lips, acknowledging our constant cycle of interrupting each other. "Alright," he replied. With a few taps to the track pad, he withdrew his hands to settle against my side. Secured to his lap, I laced my fingers through his hair and kissed him gently, "Come on, being cute won't save you...my champion."

He laughed as I slid from his lap, taking one of the swords off the wall in its sheath and heading down to the lawn below. The doors sounded with a heavy thud by the time I reached the stairs; I headed down them with a deliberate pace to my step. He joined me just before we stepped outside, obviously having used his speed to his advantage. With a gracious little smile, he opened the door and allowed me to step out onto the lawn ahead of him.

"Did you see that?" Aleksi was exclaiming. Brandon jogged off, leaving the young boy to flounder for approval from my daughter. She seemed to have eyes only for Rain.

"Are you teaching the boys how to sword fight or shall I?" Bram teased his cousin, walking up to her and giving her a firm kiss on the forehead. She rolled her eyes, "Teach 'em later, Zofie's hitting every target."

"We're having fun," she confirmed, much to Aleksi's displeasure.

"I'm so glad my love," I replied. She rose on her toes and I bent to kiss her. Her gemstone eyes twinkled with delight. Brandon came back, twirling the arrow between his fingers before placing it back in Aleksi's hand, "A perfect shot for you too."

"Are you only practicing with two arrows?" I asked.

"It gets Brandon off his lazy arse," Liam replied, to which the other boy sneered.

"Well, enjoy yourselves," Bram replied. Zofie glanced at us curiously, earning a tiny kiss blown in her direction as I allowed him to lead the both of us off to a more secluded area to practice. We settled for the nestle of open trees where we could see the light of the den through the mist. He unsheathed his blade and I mine. "First to blood?" he asked.

I winked, "Prepare to be overthrown, champion."

"Shut up," he teased, a wicked grin on his lips. I couldn't feign novice with him, he knew me too well. I wouldn't move until he had, since it was unfair of him to use his skills to his advantage. He went for a direct hit, hoping to intimidate me. Our swords clanged sharply, resounding in our little grove. I pushed him off and went to deflect his blade as it came back. He came closer and I allowed for the near-contact. I swept my foot out to catch his. He back stepped over it, drawing back his blade and sweeping a full arc that sliced the air. He was elegant, studied, a real champion of the king's court. I knew his every move. I let him strike close and twisted away, bringing the hilt of my blade down on the tender inside of his wrist. He dropped it into the other hand, sealing his hand around my forearm. I slid my blade freely into one hand and slammed it into his. He released me, allowing me to duck from under his arm. I slid behind him, wrapping my fingers around the ties of his shirt. He paused, huffing with the knowledge that had I been an enemy, his game would've been over.

I kissed his neck softly, "Another round?"

"I let you win," he replied, his tone so teasing that I had to restrain my own urge to smile and tease. He turned, wrapping his arm around me and kissing me fully on the lips, "Should you win again, I will grant you the privilege of champion for the night and preparing a feast in your honor."

"Did you just say _you_ would cook if I win again?" I replied.

He grinned, "I said prepare a feast, I never said cook."

I withdrew, "Then go again."

This time, he waited for me. I struck a direct hit and didn't give him the chance to follow my thoughts as I kept striking, again and again. Our blades slammed into each other with enough force to make them quake in our hands. His smile fell quickly and he swept his sword low, forcing me to step back. I swung with a straight shot for his chest as he rose. He leaned back, eyes widening in surprise at the ferocity of my attacks. Using that surprise to my advantage, I closed the gap between us and closed my hand around the hilt of his sword. His brows rose in surprise. I pulled with the vast majority of my strength, and reflexively he jerked backward. I let out a huff of breath as my hand snapped back and hit me.

"Sorry," he panted.

"That was the point," I huffed. I didn't actually want to draw blood on him, just as I knew he didn't on me. Still, I tried to get behind him again, a mistake he was more than willing to fix. He caught me in his arm, trapping my body against his. I threw up my sword to keep his blade away from my neck, but I remembered his fangs all too late. An instinctual chill ran down my spine as they grazed my skin.

"Looks like I win," he murmured.

My pulse skyrocketed. I hadn't played dirty like that with him, but he let his mouth linger against my neck. It hadn't been so cold until I felt his warm breaths caressing my hair. My blood throbbed in my veins. He lowered his blade first, but I was the one who kept firm, "Best two out of three?"

"We can share the title of champion, m'lady," he murmured in my ear. "I will give you that feast, so long as you allow me to take to bed the most beautiful lady in all the kingdom tonight."

"Her fiancee would probably murder you, but I can't stop you," I replied.

He laughed, brushing my hair from my neck, "Oh no, I wed her long ago. And she gave me a princess whom I treasure as dearly as I do her."

My cheeks warmed slightly. He prodded my hip with the end of his sword, "What say you, my darling?"

"I say you better make yourself one hell of a champion to get me to call you that in my domain," I replied. He laughed, catching my hand and spinning me outward. My shoes slid easily on the damp grass, a laugh of my own bubbling outward with our fingers interlaced. My skin, though chilled by mist, was flushed with warmth of his own doing. I could've very easily bowed to him and proclaimed him my once and future king, but there were things that I didn't need to say for him to understand. He knew that I worshipped him with my eyes and that it was enough. He had my full loyalty and love, and as he sheathed his sword, I did my own and his arm wrapped lovingly around my upper body.

"Let's go inside," he murmured, "You must be freezing."

"Zofie," I called out, "Are you still out here?"

For a moment, I took the silence as the thought that she and Rain had departed inside. Only when it was broken by the high-pitched shriek of a little girl did I panic. I broke away from his side and took off running, passing where they had shot their arrows and plunging into the wispy white fog. At the very edge of the trees, Zofie stood with her hands clasped to her mouth. I scooped her up, pressing her tightly to me. Brandon knelt by a body with an arrow lodged in its head, right at the focal point between the eyes.

Before Bram could ask what happened, he looked at her and down at Rain, "Did she do that?"

"It was amazing," Aleksi whispered. No matter how horrifying the thing, I was beginning to process that he was probably as in love with her as Bram was with me, and therefore would've put up with anything she did. It was a comforting thought to say the least. I kissed her forehead and carried her away from the sight, off toward the house where she couldn't see through the slowly increasing fog.

"Am I in trouble?" she whispered, her voice quivering tearfully.

Before she could cry or explain, I kissed her damp little face and shook my head, "No, my love. Accidents happen. It's alright." She clung to my shirt, drying her tears on the backs of her hands.

"Gory!" Bram called. I tucked her face gently against my shirt and led her back to them, keeping her face shielded from the evidence of her accidental execution.

As I neared, I realized that I knew this vampire. I knew the face of this man. I glanced up to my husband's face, his cousin crouched at his side. She snapped off the back of her arrow with a frustrated grunt.

"And then there were four," Brandon said, lighting up his cigarette with a match before dumping it on the rebel in our midst.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

_Chapter Twenty-Four_

The world outside the window was an ever-shifting milky white as if the clouds had sunk to earth. Though we had settled in without much incident, no real sleep was occurring. Gory had gone to write in the den and I stationed myself sans computer in the kitchen. Most of the light was contained from the fog on some old superstition that visible light in the fog would only cause us harm. I glanced outside occasionally, watching the wind shift and stir the paint-streak whiteness. It was so cool and damp that a frog wandered onto the veranda and came face to face with my shoe behind glass to no greater surprise than its own.

I let the curtain fall and took a bottle of wine from a rack under the counter. It was late enough to warrant the use of merlot to relax. I heard the shifting and shuffling of another person's movement and set on the kettle for tea. I placed the bottle against the wall to ensure it wouldn't fall if knocked into and took a much too short drink as I turned toward the refrigerator and produced a bowl of fruit.

Zofie paused in the doorway, watching me place it at another seat from the one I took. She blinked slowly, her eyes heavy with obvious exhaustion, but she shuffled over anyway. I scooped her up and held her to my chest, her cherubic face immediately thumping to my shoulder with a sigh that was too exasperated for her age. I nudged her elbow with the edge of the bowl, but she didn't budge. "Well, school is going to be hard for you in the fall. You've managed to find yourself where I was at your age, and that was some hundreds of years ago."

"I'm not going," she murmured, "I'll be in jail."

I laughed, "And why would you think that?"

"'Cause I shot somebody," she replied. I ran my fingers through her hair, lifting her before the kettle could cry out at its boiling point. I poured her and her mother a glass of black tea, but I dressed hers with a piece of orange. She lifted her head and nuzzled it into my neck, the little huffs of warm breath from her nose already paced for sleep. I cradled her and rocked her slowly, hoping she would sleep without aid. Instead, she buried her face against my skin and wound her tiny fingers in my shirt. I tightened my grasp on her little body, silently promising to guard her with my life. She whined as she breathed- a series of tiny, instinctive whimpers that melded into a string of heartbreaking sounds. "I'm so tired," she muttered, "but I can't sleep."

"Why not?" I murmured.

"Cause they're gonna come take me away from you an' Mommy for killing somebody..."

Her little fist was wound so tightly in my shirt that I felt her nails against my skin. I pressed my lips to her head. "I will never let anyone take you from my sight, Zofie. I would kill every man on earth if it kept you safe."

Her grip loosened gradually, her little breaths growing deeper and more peaceful. I left their tea to cool and carried her to the sofa. I took my glass along and set it down as I laid back with her on my chest. Tiny as a kitten, she grasped my attention even asleep. I covered her with my arms to keep her warm. I found myself pacing my breath to her own while my mind wandered, staring up at the ceiling without truly seeing it. It was only when someone began toying with my hair that I came back to myself.

Rain smiled, her eyes warm and dark. "Ye make a good father."

"You're still occasionally the annoying little shit, but I love you anyway," I replied. She flicked my forehead and I feigned biting her hand. A little giggle escaped her, a quiet sound that at times I didn't think she was capable of. Careful of Zofie, I rose into sitting and welcomed her to my side. "How is Gaelin after all this time?"

"Still grateful to ya," she murmured, tucking herself under my free arm in much the same way as my daughter. "I've got three other brothers, ya know."

"I know," I replied, "but I've never met them."

The Devein clan had been strong for generations. Our marriages to others had been inevitable, and the line had grown with time. My mother always teased that there was at least a pair of us in every country across the globe, the time I spent with Rain always seemed to try to confirm that.  
I pressed my lips to her forehead, causing the most adorable blush I'd ever seen to rise in her cheeks. As far as siblings went, Rain and I were closer to each other than our own brothers. I didn't have to look at Sean to understand that reasoning. She curled into my side, exhaling softly with something that sounded like relief. "I really wanna thank ya a little more-"

"For what?" I murmured, "You're family, Rainy. You don't have to."

She shifted ever so slightly to glance at Zofie, "Is she alright?"

"She hasn't expressed actual remorse, just the fear that it was illegal." Neither of us could stop ourselves from grinning.

"I heard the story of when you were young," she murmured, "How you shot yer dad in the foot, how ya shot just about anything that moved. And then ya went and shot a peasant boy for mouthin' off to Sean."

I chuckled, "That wasn't the story I was thinking of, but those aren't exaggeration."

She waited, likely hoping I would tell it. I scooped Zofie up to take her to her bed instead. She was gratefully out cold, completely comfortable with the slight shifting as we ascended the stairs. Her bedroom hadn't changed much in all of these years, a crib being changed with a bed and an accumulation of her things replacing the space from before her birth. I nudged open the door with my knee and rose a brow, the darkness of her room pierced by the dim glow of my wife's laptop. She looked up sheepishly and set it on the window seat, crossing the floor quickly to peel back the duvet. I laid Zofie down on her pale purple sheets and smoothed her hair. Gory tucked an odd-looking orange doll with three eyes in her arms. I tucked the blanket around her body and kissed her forehead, an action seconded by her mother. Laptop balanced on her arm, Gory headed out a step ahead of me.

"I needed quiet," she murmured. That was all the house was half the time, but I didn't comment on it. "How's it coming?"

She shrugged, "Draculaura likes it enough. I want to revise it to death but she tells me just to keep going until its done."

"Get the turkey before you stuff it," I teased, kissing her cheek. Her eyes snapped up as if it was the best advice she'd ever received and she broke into a beaming smile. She beelined for our desk and perched in the chair that obviously needed replacing. Even though she'd gone back to work, I joined her at the desk and lightly massaged her shoulders. "I made you tea, if you'd like it."

"Yes, tea," she replied, half-distracted already, "And come back, I need your input."

There were two sides to the woman I loved, there always had and always would be. There was a part of Gory who was wild and adventurous, who got us into more trouble than she would've liked to admit. She grabbed life by the groin and made it cry, she feared absolutely nothing and sought out every thrill she could grasp. And there was the woman that she simply was, the dreamer who couldn't bring herself to leave her safety enough to grasp the concept of real adventure. The one who wanted but never acted, the one who had been so dissatisfied with life for so long that it affected her more deeply than she would've liked to admit. This was the safest way to give her what she wanted. I watched her while she went at her keys the way a machete went at jungle vines. I wanted to tell her how brave I thought she was. It wasn't easy for her to jump on horseback and armor up. She could make threats, but carrying them out was something else entirely.

I didn't break her concentration, but I did go to fetch her tea. Rainy was perched on the ledge of the counter, drinking my wine.

I shooed her off, smacking her backside lightly, "Put that down, you're a fucking kid."

"I look like a fucking kid, I taught my niece how to shoot a man. Believe me, I deserve a drink as much as you."

I took my glass from her hands and replaced it with the plain tea. Her lower lip protruded in a slight pout, her eyes filled with faux despair. I rolled my eyes and brought the bottle of wine with the tea I'd dressed for Zofie, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need you sober just in case. My wife and I are going to go drink wine and write poetry."

"She's not writing poetry, she's writing a book," Rainy pointed out.

"Either way," I replied. She pouted down at the tea until I poured the rest of the wine glass into it, successfully filling it up to an obscene level and appeasing her. "Two hundred year old teenager," I quipped.

"Three hundred year old hoarder," she replied.

I winked and headed back up the stairs. I could hear the vague sounds of late-night talk shows and movies from the other rooms, met by the loving silence of the rest of the house. I paused by the library to pick up another chair and brought it into the bedroom. She glanced up only at my entrance, breaking into an award-winning smile that stopped my heart. "I send you for tea and you bring wine," she teased. "This romance has to stop sometime."

"Never, cara mia." I set the chair beside hers and slid into it. I slid her teacup to her, watching as the flicker of sheepishness crossed her face like a schoolgirl at the touch of my hip to hers. I poured myself a bit of wine and wrapped my arm around her back, "Now, what can I do for you?"

Her cheeks colored slightly, "Describe me."

I raised a brow. Her cheeks only continued to betray the confidence in her tone for the unstable legs it had always had. I refused to speak until she did, and she finally gave up with a sigh. "I'm writing from a man's point of view. Action, blood, all of that I can describe accurately on my own, but I want to know what you think is beautiful in a woman."

I couldn't resist teasing her. I propped my elbow up on the back of her chair and rested my chin in my hand, "And you think I'd be talking about you?"

"Fuck you," she shot back, "I know you would. I've been with you eleven years, you haven't so much as commented on Megan Fox's ass."

"Megan Fox isn't attractive, she's human," I pointed out. I moved closer to her and murmured, "Firstly, while being a demure little lady is cute for introducing a girl to your parents, she ought to have fire. A wit sharper than any blade and the ability to do whatever she wants, wear whatever she wants, eat whatever she wants without giving a general fuck about what other people say. She's smarter than God with a richness to her presence that's sweeter than sin. Being with her is the sweetest thing in life, and it feels so good that you can almost feel how wrong it is for a man like you to have such a perfect thing. You've killed, you've stolen, you've sinned, and yet you know you're going to have her because a world without her is not a world you intend to live in, no matter how much she blushes when you make advances, or how she can keep her temper contained around the people who she has to impress. She's just as wicked, she's just better at playing games."

"Hush," she replied. She was writing anyway on a blank file, taking note of my every word. Her cheeks were as pink as a spring carnation, and I kissed the hollow of her throat with deliberate firmness. Her fingers faltered. I rested my free hand at the opposite side of her waist, encircling her body in my arms.

"Does she love him?" I murmured into her neck. She shivered slightly, nodding once. "Then she blossoms for him like a flower when he touches her. She might be a firecracker with everyone else, but she lies to him about as well as she lies to herself. She may think she's not good enough. Surely he's a strong fighter, maybe decently respected in the kingdom, but she thinks she's just a lowly merchant's daughter, doesn't she? And he could have any girl, even the princess, but she's the one he takes to bed at night."

"You need to stop," she whispered. I knew she couldn't handle the truth sometimes, but that didn't keep me from saying it.

"He loves her skin, even when it isn't flawless. It's soft, and it's warm, and its hers. He loves that she turns such a pretty pink when he makes her blush, and that her lips are so red when he kisses them. The shape of her face suits her smile, not her frown. She has the most luscious hair, fit for stroking and tangling his fingers in, anything to keep him close to her. Her body is perfect, whether in the eyes of others or not, it is to him. Everything about her suits her. Her curves, her fullness, she doesn't need to look like an hour glass to make him salivate."

"Bram-" she whispered. Her face was so red it was comical, but I loved it on her. I rested my chin on her shoulder and toyed with her hair. "He loves her with all that he is because she is perfect to him. She does not have to be written as Megan Fox, she needs to be written as he sees her. Those curves fit in his hands, if she didn't have them, he wouldn't have anything to worship. Her lips are sacred, and making love to her he does with the thoroughness of a priest at mass. Love is not a light concept, but then again, not much is when it's thought about too heavily."

She had stopped writing and sat with her hands at the edge of her keys. They quivered slightly, delicate, elegant fingers that had traced through my hair and brought me peace and pleasure. I grasped her hand and raised it to my lips. "He loves her fingers. He loves her eyes. He loves watching her rub her sunflower lotion onto her skin. He loves watching her fall asleep. He loves watching her awaken. She's the most beautiful when she thinks she's beautiful and when she thinks she means nothing. When she cries, it hurts him and it excites him at the same time, because a being like her should never experience pain, and yet her lips grow so red, her eyes grow so bright, and her face flushes with life... she makes him believe in a God, because he's been given Heaven, and he would rather die a thousand times in the ninth circle of Hell than release her for any reason.  
And together, they made something beautiful. The most delicate of things, the perfect balance between their goodness and their evil."

Tiny tears traced her cheeks and I kissed them away. She saved everything quickly. As the screen slowly deepened to blue before going dark, she turned to me and slipped her arms around my neck. I grasped her close enough to feel every curve of her perfection pressed to me, her languid legs hitching against my waist to link the both of us together. She cupped my face in her hands and drew my mouth to hers, granting me access to the gift that she was. Her lips were delicate and pure in a way that a girl like her with such knowledge of the world should've never been. I didn't need light to see her in all of her glory. I scooped her up and took her to bed, clinging to her as tightly as I could.

"You're such an awful liar," she wept, drawing away to press her face into my chest. "Never say that to me, ever again."

"I didn't lie," I whispered. "I love you. I'm horribly biased. Anyone else who loves you would see that I'm right."

She wound her fingers in my shirt and clung to me. I held her there, willing her to feel how every thump of my pulse said her name.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I would tell you the same, but you wouldn't believe me."

Without a second thought, she nestled herself against me and squeezed as tightly as she possibly could. I felt her heart beating so close to my own and focused there, losing the beat of my own in it. "I love you," I whispered, whether she believed me or not.

"I know," she breathed. "It just always surprises me."


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five

_Chapter Twenty-Five_

My best friend's bedroom hadn't changed much over the years, except the expansion it had gotten as a wedding present from her father in an effort to keep their family together. She had forgone part of her pink scheme and ebbed away from a great part of her girlish innocence. A lovely, mahogany four-poster bed sat where the pink-and-black coffin canopy had once been, and she used her large home to her advantage now. Her bedroom was hers and Clawd's with the animals elsewhere in the house. With him at school, though, I left Zofie with Bram and indulged her pre-wedding whim to gather me where she seldom had visitors.

She sunk onto her plush bed in a pleated white boating dress, propping her slender arms up on the edge of the footboard to stare at me. I perched myself on the curve-armed Victorian sofa, delicate and brass-trimmed like the growing number of antiques in her room. I was color against her darkened, mature depth. Her exotic eyes bore into my own and I returned the gaze.

"What the hell was that wedding gift?" she began, her voice soft and warm and full of inexplicable comfort. It took me under half a minute to process that she was drunk.

"That was teasing him and training you," I replied. "Whether he's a werewolf or not, every girl needs a leash and color for her husband until he's trained. Men can be worse than puppies."

She got up and pulled it out of the dresser drawer, spreading a smirk across my lips. She could deny it until she died, but if she kept it close to her, she liked it. She looped the soft, pink suede over my neck and pulled until it tightened. I shook my head, moving the clasp on my own. "You'll break the studs," I murmured.

She draped her arms over my shoulders, perching herself comfortably on my lap. Her eyes were glimmering with intoxication. "What about you?" she murmured, "What about the collar Bram so obviously has on you?"

"We're equals," I murmured. "If we have chains at all, they're locked mutually around us."

She sighed and sunk backward. I removed the plaything from my neck and tossed it lightly onto her bed. It jingled as it bounced, the sound in time with her movements as she slowly began to shake her head. Her eyes filled with glistening tears and she whispered, "I'm putting on an act. I'm trying to make myself the girl Valentine loved once, but I don't think I'm ready to grow up that way again. I don't think I'll ever be."

I shifted and draped my arm around her slender shoulders. She curled into my side, fitting there like a piece of the puzzle that was myself, and allowed me to stroke her hair. "Do you like your room?" I murmured. She nodded. "Do you like your hair one color?" She nodded again. "And shorter?" Her eyes closed, "They're little changes, Gory. It's...it's hard. I got a job, I got a real car, I fixed my house to accommodate the both of us and...and kids, and I'm trying. I'm trying so hard." Her voice dropped to a strained little whisper, fighting the tears that peered at the edge of her mascara-coated lashes. "I can't push myself much more. I can't take living like this."

"I know, my darling dearest," I murmured in reply. Her tears fell and I kissed them away, leaving little smudges of dark lipstick on her pale pink cheeks. "He loves you as you are. You don't have to change for him."

"I do," she whispered, "He's going to school, he has a job, he's trying to be the husband he thinks I want. So I want to be the wife I think he wants."

"Did you ever ask him what he wants?" I replied, "What you think and what he thinks are two completely different things."

She was silent for a very long time before she murmured, "I want to see him."

My stomach turned. "No. Draculaura, as your friend, I can't let you do this."

"I want to see him," she repeated, pulling away from me to get her purse. Why she thought she needed it, I'd never know. There were smudges in her eye makeup, but she started out the door ahead of me.

"Draculaura, no," I called after her, giving chase down the stairs. I caught her arm at their base and she whipped around, her eyes blazing with open fury. "I need to see him!"

There was a part of me that knew, when our eyes met, that I didn't understand the position she was in. I married the first boy that I had ever truly loved, Draculaura had met and dealt with two very different men. Her first love had been my arrogant, asinine brother, and despite the fact that I had no idea what she saw in him, she was torn between the amazing man she intended to marry and that glutton for punishment I called a sibling.

"At least let me drive." I didn't know why I'd agreed. She relaxed, though, and did allow me to drive her from her home to the radio station. He practically lived there now, and she could go chasing all she wanted, but I had a nagging suspicion that she'd never find what she was looking for in a man outside the one she was engaged to. She ran inside ahead of me, giving me a chance to warn Valentine in a text of her arrival. The message, though sent, didn't reach him in time. As I approached, I knew it didn't need to.

I had never seen such open disbelief in Draculaura's eyes, but there it sat. Valentine and Cupid had surrendered their positions to Holt for the hour before their next broadcast, and I saw them nestled together in their seats. He toyed with her cherubic, pink-tinted blond curls and peppered kisses to her stark white skin. She blushed for him the way Draculaura never could. They met each other's eyes, and she stole a glance at Holt before allowing him to kiss her. I saw her heart break all at once, but there was absolutely nothing I could do. Valentine kissed Cupid joyfully. If she was what he needed to fix the damage inflicted to his heart, then I wished them the best. I hoped she understood that he wasn't going to wait for her as she should've never tried for him. I hoped she understood that he was in enough pain without her contribution.

But she didn't. She stood there with that appalled, gaping gaze until Cupid noticed her. Her eyes brimmed over and she sobbed, dashing off down the hall and leaving me to follow.

I hadn't even unlocked the car when I reached her. She was pulling violently on the handles as if her sheer willpower would open them. I stopped and watched her throw her childish fit, kicking the tire and hurting her own foot before sinking onto a circular patch of mulched landscaping. She sunk among the white flowers like one of their own had come to life, her back bowed like the branches of the sapling behind her, and I watched as she placed her head in her hands and cried.

"That was awfully dramatic," Valentine whispered in my ear.

"She's drunk," I murmured. "I'm happy for you."

He looked at her. He had lost his mother, his father, his surrogate family and his dignity. He had been thrown out of his home and subjected to the scrutiny of a child of a terrorist would be, and the one thing that he had clung to hope for, for all the centuries he had, had left him for another man. He had been through enough than to go to her and endure more. He looked at me apologetically before wandering back toward the studio and back to Cupid. God, it really was a real bitch when people made your decisions for you.

I unlocked the car and grabbed my portable tissue box, joining her in the grass after a moment of deciding that as long as there weren't red ants, a minute on the pavement wouldn't kill me. I fed a steady stream of tissues to her hands, watching them become laced in makeup-smeared tears and filled with the evidence of her sorrow.

"You ought to thank him," I murmured, "Because if he didn't love you, he wouldn't walk away when you needed him to."

"Shut up," she snapped. "That's not fucking fair, you get men falling at your feet and you decide to tell me that I'm not worthy of him."

I took a deep breath, keeping my temper cool, "Most of the reason I didn't want you to be with him was because he wasn't good enough for you. I've spent a lot of time in his presence lately. I'm starting to see how wrong I was."

She was silent for a very long time before she whispered, "You slept with Jackson Jekyll when we were a freshman in college, didn't you?"

I shook my head, "No, that was Frankie. You ought to remember, you were there."

"He always loved you too," she whispered. "Him and Heath and Holt and Andy and every fucking person that came in contact with you. Cleo loves you, Ghoulia loves you, fucking Lilith Van Hellscream loves you."

"Maybe it's because I'm a novel of useless trivia and not a whiny, spoiled..." I wanted to finish it with _bitch,_ I really did. I loved her so much that I wanted to be brutally honest with her. "Princess," I concluded. She knew. She got up and she looked at me in all of her five foot zip inch glory, and she was crying too hard to unleash any form of wraith. She balled her tissues in her fist and made for the garbage can. I batted the dirt from her dress and sighed, "I'm going to take you home. I'm going to get you in a cold bath, get some coffee and asprin into you and get you to bed, and then I can explain to your husband that you drank the day away-"

"He's not my husband," she whispered. "Not yet. And I don't know if he even wants me."

"You're such a fool," I muttered. "You're such a beautiful fucking fool."

I couldn't tell if that made her sad or a little more angry, but she wiped her face and headed off toward the car.

We didn't beat Clawd back, but she was so tired that her state was obvious. I led her up to bed and helped her get ready, but when it came to staving off her future hangover, she fell asleep before I could do much more than get asprin into her system. Her fiancee waited on the stairs with a worried expression that I knew he'd wear quite a bit as the loving husband he was set to be.

"She's okay," I murmured. "She's..."

"Did she go to see him?" he asked. His tone was gentle, quiet, and heartbroken. I nodded. He pressed his lips together, the kind of agony in his eyes that only usually came with someone dying, but I shook my head quickly. "He has a girlfriend, Clawd. He's moved on."

A breath of relief slipped past his lips, but I could tell that he was upset.

"She's a selfish brat," I murmured, "She doesn't really love him. She just wants as many boys on her arm as she can get. She loves you. She'd be stupid not to."

He just nodded and gave me a thankful look before going off after her. There was honestly a part of me that knew it would serve her right if he left her. Even I was immune to her charm after so long, he had to be at least to a degree. As he went in, though, I knew he was weaker than I was. He was just a boy, madly in love with an older woman who would break his heart in the end. Even if she never found another boy to fawn on her the way he did, her family had enemies. She had enemies. There was a chance that I was slowly coming to terms with that I would not be able to save her in the end. Her childish recklessness would be her own downfall and I could do absolutely nothing to stop it, I could only keep myself out of the way to make sure the wraith came down on her and not me. It was a horrible thought, but it was a necessary one. I loved Draculaura, but I would be damned before I'd die for her, and that was where my loyalty drew the line.

I left without a second thought and made it home just before the news.


	26. Chapter Tenty-Six

_Chapter Twenty-Six_

It was the first time in a very long time we looked like a normal family. Bram was on his laptop beside me and I on mine, the news on quietly in front of us, and Zofie was sitting at the base of the table with Aleksi sitting over her shoulder, reading the same book. Bram nudged me gently, but I was writing. I ignored it until he did it again, forcing me to lift my eyes and smile. He sent me an IM. _Reminds me of us._

_No_, I responded, _you are not shipping my six year old daughter with our friends' six year old son, no._

_Arranged marriage?_ he teased.

_You're sleeping down here._

His eyes were warm, mischievously playful and daring me to kick him out of bed. I shook my head as he squeezed my knee and moved a bit closer to press his mouth gently to my neck. I tried not to purr with increasing contentment. My best friend could mess everything up that she saw fit, but I was happy. My husband's warm breath fanned my skin as he pressed warm, damp little kisses to my neck. I giggled and nuzzled him like a schoolgirl, allowing him to steal a legitimate kiss as he pulled away.

"Mama," Zofie said, drawing my attention. She turned up the volume just a bit, attracting the both of us to the sickly-looking reporter on the screen.

"_We are live from New Salem, Oregon where an entire family has been murdered in their home. Police describe the scene as blasphemous, to say the very least. While most commonly, ritualistic killings are associated with Satanic religions and witchcraft-"_

"Bullshit," I said under my breath.  
_"the scene can only be described as inexplicably holy. The victims were dressed in white, scrubbed and even dressed in flowers. They appeared to have been drugged and slashed at every major pulse point. Police found a hand-written note at the scene holding a chilling message for residents: 'We are here to purify. And there will be more. In the name of God, there will be more.'"_

Bram glanced at me. I rose my hands and gave a slow clap, "Bravi. They've just made a joke of themselves."

"Grandma did that?" Zofie asked, her eyes raising in absolute horror.

I scoffed, "Of course your grandmother was the cause for that. She had a more sick sense of humor than I do." I knew from the look on my husband's face that he was about to argue coincidence, but I simply shook my head. "You know what? It is what is. Someone will find whoever did that, someone will find the other four rebels, whether they're unrelated or not, and I am going to sit on this sofa and finish my novel."

He sighed, but relented and turned off the TV. Our daughter and her friend still stared at us until they were sure we weren't going to add anything to that. Zofie rose slowly, tucking her finger into her page, "Come on Aleksi, let's go upstairs."

He followed her with the obedience of a well-trained pet. I wrote until I could feel my mixed emotions ebbing away, replaced with something akin to calm that felt much deeper. Bram didn't bother sending another IM, instead he murmured without looking up, "She worries, you know."

"She's too young to worry," I replied, "That's the whole point of keeping her at home. I want her to grow up in a positive environment."

He must've finished. His screen went dark and he shut it gently, moving just slightly closer to me once again. "We can only filter out so much of society. We can put her with peers she deserves, but there will always be the ignorant rest, just like them. And as much as I know you want to make sure she never goes through what you did-"

"You turned out fine." I wasn't about to discuss it while I worked, he understood that. He waited in patient silence, toying with the ends of my hair and pressing light kisses to my shoulders. "You can be so cold," he murmured, "I hope you know what a turn-on it is."

I didn't feel as if I were cold, I felt as if I were doing what needed to be done. That was the horror of life. Everyone died, and a lot of people died horribly. We would die one day. Everything died, and everything lived, and although life was beautiful and precious it was so common that no one could truly consider it sacred. My typing slowed, spurring him on a bit more. "You know, I still haven't entirely come to terms with the idea of you being so merciless in battle. Delicate thing like you, all the books you read and gowns you wear...ripping into the flesh of your opponent with little more than your teeth and your painted nails, covered in blood, coiled like a jungle cat..._cara mia,_ you drive me wild."

I set down my laptop and relented, "Do I drive you wild, or is it the thought of hunting me?" He kissed me fiercely, soothing the mood I'd worked myself into. I ran my fingers lightly over his chest, continuing to tease him as I pulled away. "Do you like having such a lethal predator domesticated just for you?"

"I do," he murmured, "I also like knowing that you could turn at the drop of a hat, and I'd be at your mercy, you beautiful, dangerous little monster."

I bit his lower lip. He growled, the sound resembling more of a purr than a predator, "God have mercy."

"You heard them," I teased. "We're impure. We're out of his jurisdiction."

His fingers ran over my sides deliberately slowly. My breath hitched, eyes falling to watch as he trailed his fingertips down to my hips and nestled against me. "I'd like to make you impure," he breathed against my neck. His fang caught my earring and tugged gently, sending a little shockwave of pleasure-pain through my chest so suddenly that I gasped. His lips pressed there, kissing away the blood gently.

My angels were the farthest from impure. Maybe I was, and in my presence he had been corrupted, but there was no way that Bram had been born anything shy of heavenly, nor my Zofie. My beautiful Zofie, my miracle child. Valentine had warned me so many times over how difficult and dangerous it was for a vampire to be pregnant, how we could both die and it would be safer just to not have a baby at all. In my selfishness, I had kept her and I would never have regretted that decision. No amount of pain could tarnish the two angels I had.  
He noticed my little smile and brushed his fingertips across my cheek, "I love you so very much."

I cupped his palm, tracing it slowly down my own cheek before kissing it softly. The dark lipstick pressed into his palm, leaving a warm, red kiss. We left our marks on each other time and time again, little scars on each other's necks, chests, thighs, wrists. The crook of my left elbow bore two jagged-looking fang marks from our honeymoon, just as I'd bitten his lip to blood so many times out of teasing. "I love you."

It occurred to me then, a thought that in all my time of studies perhaps hadn't processed. I glanced at my husband and sat up progressively, easing him back. "They said it was a ritual," I murmured. He nodded. "Valentine's hearts, Zofie's jewelry...Bram, what if they're not just rebels?"

He straightened, "Please don't be saying what I think you're saying."

Human cults were based solely on idiocy half the time, but every so often, someone struck pay dirt. If a large gathering of vampires had met in secret, as many as Jonas had said there were, they had secrets they didn't want escaping their circle. I could think of only one thing besides money that would warrant strict secrecy; power. Power enough to overthrow a king and enslave the human race. Power that I was qualified for...because my mother and my brother practiced it. "Those stupid cattle," I whispered. I pulled away from him and dashed upstairs. Breaking into my brother's room was easy, he never remembered to lock anything. In the boyish mess, though, finding what I was looking for wouldn't be. I tore everything open, dumped it on the bed, searched through sketch upon sketch until I found it. There were clues in each of them. All of the sketches with Draculaura.

"What the hell are you doing?"

I glanced up at him. He didn't look like a warlock being confronted, just an irritated older sibling finding their sister in their junk. "What did she do to preserve the hearts?" I asked.

"Embalming fluid," he replied. "Are you alright?"

I gathered every drawing he had done of Draculaura and I started for the door, but he caught my arm. He pushed shut the door and whispered, "You can't tell anyone."

"People are dying and there's going to be more, isn't there?" He was silent, his grip gentle and loose. I turned to him, wrenching from it and clutching his drawings to my chest, "Tell me everything right fucking now, Valentine."

His eyes lifted slowly. "I'm not as experienced as your mother, but she taught me what she could. All the jewelry I've given Zofie has been laced in a protection incantation. They can't touch her. As far as I know, I have the last book. I took it with me when I left. They only came back because your grandparents burned the Dark Library. They're going to rely on what they know, and I doubt that many of them know much."

"They killed a family in a ritual, Val," I whispered.

"How many people?" he replied.

"Three."

He nodded, "They need six. Six individuals and six virgins. They'll probably attack somewhere more publicly next time or start stealing people off the streets. Children suit the agenda best. There were enough of their blood spilt in the first place to finish off what they needed done, especially if they declared that they were sacrificing themselves to begin with."

He let go of me. I set his papers down on his nightstand and stared at him very seriously, my jaw set. "That was why she wanted to make it look like I was dead. She didn't want my family at risk." He froze in mid-movement, allowing the horrified words to settle in. "She knew this was going to happen. She knew we were going to walk right into it and she didn't want us connected to it."

He rose, slowly, a small book in his hands. He held it out to me. I shook my head, "Get it out of my house."

"Gory-"

"I said get it out of my house. Burn it. Destroy it, I don't care, just get it out of here." I tried to slow my breathing. He withdrew it, meeting my eyes and sighing softly, "Gory, I promise, you're safe-"

"I was safe before," I whispered. "You brought this into my house, you brought this down on me when I never had to be involved. You put my daughter in danger. You put my _family_ in danger. You put everything I love in the path of a group of psychopaths and you led them right to the person they wanted to kill. They don't care about me, they don't care about anything to do with me. You have their resource."

"It's a summoning spell," he tried to explain. His tone was as gentle as he could possibly get it to be. "Some of us expanded our powers through alternative means-"

"_You can turn into wildlife, what the fuck do you need magic for?!_" Tears ran slowly down my face against my will. A lot had gone on without my will. He grasped my arms firmly and pulled me in tightly against his chest. "I promise," he whispered, dropping the faux Southern from his voice, "I would never let anything happen to you or Bram or Zofie or Draculaura, that's why they haven't gotten close to them yet. I know what I'm doing, Gory."

"Don't they know about you?" I muttered into his shoulder.

"Probably," he breathed. "but I'm alright. You're all I'm concerned about. You have to believe me when I tell you I never meant to put you in harm's way, I only came here to keep you safe."

I wiped my face and withdrew, forcing myself to calm. After a few deep breaths, I attempted to voice myself again. "What are they trying to summon?"

He shrugged. "Something powerful enough to handle Dracula."


	27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

_Chapter Twenty-Seven_

I had only spent a handful of days in my lifetime awake at three AM, drowning my sorrows in ice cream, but tonight was one of them. I perched in a chair at the counter, eating the remainder of a carton of strawberry bliss in my husband's shirt. Frankly, I didn't care if I was a mess, I had managed to finish off a lovely night in bed in the throes of guilty tears that won me a three hour nap and more alertness than I'd felt in weeks. My spoon felt like a shovel, digging my own grave in the pink-chunked metaphorical earth.

The stairs creaked and whoever was on them paused. I sighed, remaining unmoving. The gentle shuffle of feet approached until my brother was standing in the doorway, regarding me as if he'd never seen me before. He probably never had seen me this way. I still had smudged mascara on my eyes, my glasses were perched haplessly on my nose and I was only wearing my husband's shirt and underwear. I was shoveling down ice cream like I was a high school heartbreak. I wouldn't have been surprised at the pity in his eyes, but there wasn't any. In fact, he was glowing. I regarded the look curiously, "Did you just have sex?"

He beamed and pressed his fingers to his lips. He brought a chair over to sit beside me and smiled as he sat. "Yes, actually."

"If Draculaura is in your bedroom, I'm going to pick up a butcher knife and they will never find your body."

He shook his head, clasping my hand in his. "Chariclo and I have been seeing each other."

It took me a moment to process that Chariclo was Cupid's first name. Funny, I'd never really realized she had one. He was beaming, not in the cat that ate the canary manner I was used to, but like he'd genuinely found the person who made him happiest in life. I took another bite of ice cream, pushing around the mushy mess in the bottom. "So, you weren't lying when you moved on? Even hung up on Laura as you were?"

He shrugged, "I do retain a sense of responsibility for her, but...being with Ari feels right. Our abilities cancel each other." He took a finger full of liquid strawberry and put it to his lips. "She makes me feel human."

"Is that necessarily a good thing?" I replied. The look in his eyes, though very similar to my own, was still different. Bram made me feel invincible, sometimes so much so that it made me stupid. My brother was a narcissistic prat, maybe he needed someone to bring him back to earth. At least it hadn't been Jackson Jekyll, Frankie and I never would've forgiven him.

"It's a very good thing," he replied softly. I forgot what it felt like to be young and in love. That first year was such an experience. You felt like a god and like a mortal at the same time. Every part of your being awakened to them, that other part of you that you had known you were missing. Still, I felt a little warmth trickle into my skin at the thought of that first night. That teasing, awkward, faux experience that ended up somewhere between the most embarrassing moment of my life and a pivotal one. It was strange. As much as love could be echoed in brutality and ruthlessness, at it's very core, it was pure. I wasn't going to lie, I knew my brother was a horrid being. He had stolen the hearts from several girls' chests for his own trophies. He had been after Laura's once too, and perhaps only after her for the unattainable thing she posed to be afterward. I had never seen him this disillusioned before. It was refreshing.

I finished off my ice cream and found him watching me. "It is fine, Gory. I promise. I had a chat with Draculaura's father before Chariclo came over, you can check my phone-"

"I trust you," I murmured. "I just don't trust what you practice."

He sat beside me in his half-undone shirt and pants, glancing at the covered window. It was too cloudy to see the moon, but he attempted to anyway without rising. I didn't move to let go of my carton just yet; heavy lethargy had finally settled in my limbs, threatening to send me back to sleep then and there. For the majority of our days being in peace, it was these moments that seemed the most stressful. "She met my father before you were born. Your mother was his friend when I was young and he was widowing. She was with me on the night Draculaura was forced to flee."

I stood, dropping the spoon in the sink and throwing the carton. My heart clenched, refusing to accept beyond what I knew.

"I was just a boy then. I thought it would be easier to face eternal nothingness than be without her. I locked myself in my room for three days. On the third day, she came in and sat down, and she began teaching me." It was too easy to picture my mother young and pretty, going to the son of a wealthy man to teach him something he did not and would not need. My fingers clenched around the refrigerator door. He had been her firstborn son...he'd always been, whether he was hers or not. The fact that I had to compete for love with a boy I hadn't known existed until seven years ago scorched my heart so deeply I found it impossible to ever love her again.

"The blood of the covenant," I reminded him.

"I know," he murmured. "I just thought you'd want to understand why it feels like my responsibility to come be with you at a time like this. I knew, Gory. Nothing you ever said surprised me, only how well you execute your sleuthing. I also knew that if I went with them, not only would I be executed, but I would be leaving you alone when the others thought you dead. You don't know what they know. They would've killed you."

I turned slowly toward him, meeting his eyes. "And you didn't think for a minute to tell me."

"I wanted to keep you out of this as much as I could. Dracula's known, it's not like he couldn't take care of himself." He implored me with his eyes, but I put my chair away and headed for the door. He stood swiftly, catching my arm and pulling me close. Very rarely did I allow him to comfort me, but much like Bram to Sean, I wouldn't have traded him for anyone else. Except maybe Sean. He kissed the top of my head and murmured, "I love you, never forget that."

"I love you too," I murmured, squeezing him tightly. I released him as his hold eased and slipped away when he turned to retrieve the chair he'd pulled up alongside mine. I headed back to bed, trying to banish the thought that the surrogate daughter to a Greek god was bunking with my brother. I left the door cracked and crawled into bed with the dimly filtered light from below, one single lamp in the lower level lending to a dim gold that drifted upward to our bedroom doors. I had been in bed, resting my glasses beside me and wiping the smudges from my eyes for no longer than a minute and a half when Zofie slid through the crack in the door and padded in. She held the wing of her fat penguin doll, her hair a mussed golden mess, and she reached out to me expectantly. I scooped her up in silence, resting her little body on my chest. "What brings you to this part of the woods so late, Goldilocks?"

She placed her toy between her father and I and wrapped her arms in his shirt over my chest, "I can't sleep. Aleksi's daddy was watching a movie in the den 'bout aliens, and I don't wanna get taken."

I tried not to smile as I tucked her in between her father and I. "Which movie, my love?"

She shrugged, "But they're s' posed to be here already, so we're not getting invaded..."

I chuckled, nestling against her. "Maybe with the meteor that caused the ice age, we were little cells on it. And we're the aliens."

She smiled slightly, "They're not gonna hurt me, are they?"

"When they have so many useless humans to pick from? Of course not my love." Her father stirred as she nestled into him, cracking an eye to glance down to her before meeting my eyes. I quirked my head and whispered, "Vinnie had control of the cable."

"Jesus," he muttered, wrapping her tightly in his arm before offering the other to me. I kissed his jaw and laid beside him as he slowly became more aware. Curled into her father's chest, she made herself into a little ball and clutched her doll between them. We watched her sleep for a very long time before he looked up at me, "Did you sleep at all?"

I nodded. He didn't seem to believe me. He reached out and stroked the dark traces from beneath my eyes, "I'm sorry if I hurt you."

I shook my head, "You didn't. I'm just tired and worn out. I'd like to sleep until this is over."

His fingers trailed down my cheek, soft and soothing. My eyes grew a little heavier, yet my mind still kept me awake. I was at the verge of desperately wanting closure and knowing that as soon as this was over, I was going to be forced to confront a new stage of my life. Zofie was old enough to properly go to school, and I wasn't in school anymore. I would be a writer and a housewife and my daughter wouldn't even be allowed to be my company, unless I had her homeschooled.

Bram stared at me and traced my arm with his free hand. "We're going to have to do something after this," I murmured. "We're going to really have to put everything behind us."

"You don't have to be involved," he murmured. "This can end right now, right here. We keep my cousins here until they've been caught, then they can go home, save for Rain."

I closed my eyes and tucked my face into the back of our daughter's head. He traced my shoulder, bringing a soft sigh to my lips. "I can't help but feel like I really don't have a choice. It's always been my problem, whether I knew it or not."

"_Our_ problem," he corrected quietly. I glanced up at him. The beautiful child in his arms was all he really had to protect, but there was nobility in him that I couldn't argue with sometimes. Dracula himself had never looked so brave. "I'd never let you face something like this alone, you know that."

I blinked slowly and laid my head against his firmly muscled arm. He stretched it out beneath us, curling Zofie in between our bodies as our arms locked above her with more safety than a set of steel bars. Her breathing was deep and even, her fingers twitching against her round little doll. I brushed her hair back softly and tucked my head under her father's chin. Their skin was equally soft and silken. His fingers brushed my own and made me think just for a moment that I was equal to them. I had the weight of my family's betrayal to carry, though. The only way I would ever be equal to anyone would've been for me to disown them as my grandparents had.  
I would be easy to convince, Valentine would be the difficult part, and sometimes there were people in life who mattered a little more than saving face.


	28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

_Chapter Twenty-Eight_

"I can't do it," Zofie whispered, her voice choked with terror.

"Yah ye can, Zo!" Rainy called up to her before shooting me a pointed look, "I can't believe ye didn't teach her to fly yet."

"She's a little girl," I snapped in reply, "Zofie, if you don't move from there, I'm coming up to get you."

She had been staring at the ground from her high branch in paralyzed terror, but my words snapped her eyes to me. She whimpered, clinging to the curved branch that formed from the trunk behind her, "Daddy..."

"Bram, ye can't coddle her forever-" Rain began. I understood her words and I also understood that none of our parents, across the board of my family and my wife's, had coddled their children, but we wouldn't be in this position if our parents had been better parents. I planted my shoe and pulled myself up, branch by branch. She clutched the bark so hard I Saw the undersides of her nails turning red, and I reached out to grasp her. She wavered slightly, reaching for me and clutching the base of the tree. "Zo, you have to let go," I soothed. "Just let go and jump to me."

Her eyes brimmed over and she shook her head furiously, "I can't."

"You have to," I murmured, pulling myself up. "Zo, it's okay. I've got you." She was so terror-stricken, trembling like a leaf in a breeze. I held out my arms to her, winding one around her tiny waist and whispering, "Come on. Just jump."

She was so close to me. Her eyes darkened and steeled, and she leapt into my arms. I slid downward, cupping her little body against mine. Rain sighed in a mixture of exasperation and guilt. I carried Zofie inside without another thought. She wiggled down and dashed off to her bathroom, wiping her eyes in vain.

"I'm sorry," Rain said, following the both of us in, "I learned how when I was young, I thought she'd be ready..."

I released my breath and forced myself not to be angry with her. "It's alright. Everyone starts off differently, and Zofie's very delicate. She idolizes you." Rains eyes dropped as if I'd chastised her. I tried not to chuckle, nudging her gently, "Just give her time."

She looked up with a slight smile and went off after Zofie. With Gory still asleep, I took advantage of the house's quiet and stationed myself in the living room. The councilman hadn't sent me anything else to do, so after sending him a quick message that I could be available whenever he sent them- provided it wasn't at an unmentionable hour- I checked my work bank account. The amount of money in it made my eyes widen. I could've awoken Sean to gloat, but there was no point in that when I had peace and quiet for a change. Since my relatives had arrived, working felt maddening. It was next to impossible to find a place to accomplish anything worth noting. I browsed my accounts in silence, ordered something nice for Gory and something nice for myself, and powered off quickly for the first time since my hiring without a word from the councilman.

Zofie came to join me after a while, resting her head on my chest and allowing me to play with her hair while I read a book. Eventually I began reading aloud to keep her from squirming, but within minutes, that put her to sleep. Perhaps an hour after I'd woken up, and I had absolutely nothing to do with my day. It was a beautiful feeling.

"Good morning, Lord Businessman," Brandon said as he descended the stairs. Zofie lifted her head as if she'd been called out for sleeping. I nudged her and kissed her forehead, "Go check on your mother."

She nodded, still rubbing her eyes as she jogged up the stairs. He ruffled her hair in passing, earning a dangerous glare from my delicate daughter. He opened the door to the den and put on the news, waiting for the updates that were sure to come, but with Gory still asleep, I excused myself to indulge myself in a guilty pleasure.

The air was perfect and lightly moist as if it had been raining very lightly moments before. I struck up a match and lit a cigarette. The outside of our home was slightly damp and stuck my shirt to the stone as I leaned against it. I took a deep inhale of nicotine that spilled down to the fullest capacity of my lungs. It was like sex. I breathed in the soothing vapors slowly, savoring every particle as it passed through my lungs. Gory would've thought it a nasty habit, that was why I tried my best to indulge myself away from her. I half expected Vinnie to come running at the scent of tobacco and throw himself at my feet begging for mercy, but he didn't. I was alone for the full duration of two cigarettes, left in such bliss that I felt momentarily intoxicated.

I lifted my phone as it lit up and answered it before it could vibrate, "Hello?"

"Ah, Bram," I heard Dracula say warmly over the din of clanking dishes and muffled chatting. "How is my corporate rising star?"

I exhaled in a bliss that felt borderline divinity. "Lovely. My wife slept in so I indulged my tobacco a bit."

He laughed. "Ah, I understand. My daughter's been trying to get me to quit for years."

"Immortality has its benefits," I replied, "What can I do for you, Mr. D?"

There was a pause. I heard wedding preparation in the background and hardly resisted smiling. Vinnie did wander out while I was on the phone, backing his car out of the garage and throwing it into park at the edge of the drive. He looked at me and jogged over, and in silence I let him take a cigarette for himself. He kissed the side of my face enthusiastically, forcing me to wipe off the wet spot afterward. As silence filled the line, I stretched out my limbs and caught a bit of the rain on my bare feet. It was very light and gentle, the perfect rain for summer. "Things have escalated," the elder vampire murmured. "There was a series of murders last night, all ritualistic."

"A series?" I murmured. I almost added a blog phrase, but my self-restraint kicked in at the last moment. "Human?"

"Yes, thankfully," he said. At the very least, we saw eye-to-eye.

"Mr. D, with all due respect, whatever they're planning is likely to intimidate you. They shouldn't want anything to do with us, we haven't offered them direct opposition. If they want you, it's only sense that they want to draw you out."

I heard the slight huff of the king's breath, the muted chuckle that might've set me back had he been any more of a stranger to me. "I know. I know what they're planning, and I want you to keep your family out of it. You are going to go far and do very great things, my boy. Your parents should be very proud of you."

I couldn't help but feel as if I were back in high school with that comment. "Thank you, my lord."

"Call me Vlad," he replied. "I hope to see all of you at the dinner in a few nights."

"We'll be there," I replied. He hung up rather quickly, and I stepped inside to the scent of steeping white tea. Whether it was the nicotine or the kind words bestowed upon me by the ruler of the vampiric nation, the tea's work of relaxing me had already been done. Zofie was perched on the counter beside her mother, stirring pancake batter as I entered. Gory turned, her lace-trimmed burgundy robe swishing around her legs delicately. I took her face in my hands and kissed her before turning and kissing Zofie's forehead. She giggled, smiling slightly with impish glee in her eyes. "Wanna go frog hunting, Daddy?" she asked, "I want a pet one."

"Ah, frogs are best kept as wild pets," I replied. "We can go lay out food for them and the rabbits, though, if you'd like that."

She beamed and handed the bowl of thoroughly stirred batter to her mother. I helped her off the counter and let her dash off to wake Aleksi for some much needed childish company. I glanced back to Gory with a little smile while flicking on the faucet to wash up and help her in any way I could. "You know, even if she doesn't go to school in the fall, it might be a nice idea for her to keep Aleksi for a playmate."

"We are not sending her off to Vancouver," she replied, "And I'm sure Natasha wouldn't let him stay..."

I shrugged, "It was a thought." I turned to her and wrapped my arms around her, giving her neck a soft kiss while murmuring into her free locks of hair, "Anything I can do?"

"Put out teacups and fruit?" she murmured. Her cheeks flushed delicately and I kissed them softly. "We'll trade news later, alright?"

She nodded. As I went about her instructions, I watched her cook each pancake gently, ensuring that it was perfectly golden on the edges, but while keeping it light. I left out fruit and teacups, returning to snake my arm around her and take the teapot from her side. She beamed and stole a little kiss. "Pour some for Natasha, Zofie, and the boys, but Vinnie and Rain are taking coffee."

"Of course," I replied. The taste of her lips lingered on my own, though as she transferred the pancake to a platter and began another, she took advantage of our moment alone. "What news did you want to trade?"

"Beginning with the state you were in last night and leading up to my day off," I replied. I filled the cups and set the delicate red teapot on the table. "We'll go to lunch," she murmured, "Just you, Zofie and I, and I'll tell you everything."  
_A/N- Bleh bleh bleh, precious filler. Shall I hurry up and get to the action?_


	29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

_Chapter Twenty-Nine_

The heat became cloying around noon.  
Natasha and I sat outside with our wide-brimmed hats covering our faces despite the sun's partial obscurity by a cottony layer of clouds streaked in sudden breaks of blue. Zofie and Aleksi were slathered in as much sunscreen as their skin could handle, and Zofie ran around in her pastel pink bathing suit with the pastel green ruffle of a skirt. Aleksi had surfboard swim trunks with a belted waist that Natasha kept having to retie when she summoned him from the sprinkler every so often to reapply the sunscreen. They ran, shrieking like monkeys, back and forth through the cold spray. Sammy whimpered from the doorway of the den, longing to go run with them but knowing the sun would burn his vampiric hide.

Bram's cold hands suddenly snaked around over my collarbone, tracing over my shoulders and up the back of my neck. I moaned openly in blissful relief. Vinnie set down a pair of iced teas before darting his hand down the front of Natasha's shirt, making her scream in dismay, "_Vincent Stoker!_"

He fell back into his chair laughing, unable to match the redness in her cheeks with the color settling in as a side effect of his laughter. Our children looked to us for a moment before continuing their water games, and Bram settled in beside me. The metal chairs had long grown comfortable out in the sun, but the boys had pulled up dining chairs and didn't have to suffer like the two of us. I laced my fingers through Bram's and sighed, "Well, shall we discuss things now?"

"Of course," he replied. Vinnie and Natasha calmed and quieted, moving in a bit closer. I stroked my fingers over his cool ones, watching the children attempt to splash each other. Vaguely, I wondered if a pool would've been a good idea; we certainly had the room to dig up a few feet and put one in.

"Gory," Natasha murmured, drawing my attention again.

"Valentine told me what was going on last night," I replied. "My mother taught him a bit in the dark arts. He said that the likely reason they're focusing on us at all is to get back the book he has. My grandparents destroyed the rest, that was why my parents came back and sold out."

"That was still such shit," Vinnie said sharply, "They didn't leave you much of anything."

Natasha gave him a look. I just glanced back to Zofie. She wandered away from the sprinkler to the tiny bubbled fountain and peered in, looking for frogs. I watched her with a soft sigh. "That's beside the point. He thinks the murder was to summon something. Something strong enough to take down Dracula so they could put one of their own in power."

"Nobody's ever going to go for that," Natasha murmured.

"They won't have to if they have something stronger than Dracula," Vinnie murmured in reply. He glanced over his shoulder to where Aleksi was laying in the sun, drawing in the harmful rays as the water beat back and forth near him. "Aleksi! Get your ass over here!"

The little boy perked up and jogged over. Zofie's attention was drawn, but she didn't look up from the tiny pond for more than a second. She was such a bright little angel, so much so that she looked like a painting at any given moment. With triumph in her eyes, she ran after him and swished past the gate. Coming up to her father, she held out her hands proudly, "I found one."

He laughed, scooping her up and placing her on his lap, no matter how wet she was. "That's my girl," he murmured, pressing a warm kiss to her sopping hair. Vinnie wrapped a faded beach towel around his son and picked him up, balancing him on his lap. He picked up a brown-bottled beer and took a small drink, "So, how do we stop it?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I've got to ask Valentine."

"That actually elaborates on my news," Bram continued, nearly cutting me off. "I received word from Dracula this morning. While my boss had nothing new for me...he did. Just a bit."

Vinnie and Natasha sat up. I smiled proudly, squeezing his hand, "Oh?"

"He calls me his corporate rising star," he elaborated. "He treats us like family, my love. He asked me personally to keep you out of whatever is going on; he's aware of it. He can handle it."

I straightened. Vinnie leaned back with his beer and bounced Aleksi on his knee, muttering, "Here we go." Natasha gave him a look. I simply gazed at my husband with muted disbelief.  
"And you told him I would?"

"For all intents and purposes, yes, I did. I never expressly said you wouldn't." I wanted to remain calm, but I couldn't. It was too hot to remain calm, and I had worked too hard to remain calm. I slid my hand from his and addressed him quietly, "You can stay out of it, Bram. But our family came here-"

"To protect us," he interjected, "Not to crusade another battle we may not win."

I met his eyes and tipped back my hat. "If you don't have faith in me, that's fine. My brother and I are going to handle this. These people got my parents killed. They severed my family. My vendetta is personal."

"Personally, I'm with Indiana Jones here," Vinnie said, drawing the glare of his wife and my husband. He quirked his bottle slightly in a shrug. "Bram, you may be her husband, but you can't really stop her if she wants to."

"Like hell I can't," he snapped in reply. He looked at me defiantly, his eyes blazing like a pair of hot embers, "I love you with all of my being, Gory, but so help me if I have to wall you in your bedroom until this is over, I will."

"Don't be an asshole, Bram," Natasha replied. She sat up and glanced at Vinnie, "This is a really stupid idea, but with a lot more planning, it might help."

"I'm not letting any of you plan anything," he snapped, "Would you honestly disobey the king of the entire vampiric nation and pretty much the figurehead of monster kind over _trying to help_?"

"And if we don't?" she asked, very quietly and calmly. "And he dies? What if he doesn't have the power to stop it, Bram, then what? We're stuck under an even worse ruler, and potentially, we all die. Now I know you like to think rationally, but sometimes you need to think like a mother and not like a businessman. If there is a snowball's chance in hell that something is going to come out of the Ninth Gate and lay its hands on my baby, you better be damn sure that I'm dead before it's summoned, because I am going to kill it."

Vinnie smiled, not shifting an inch. He glanced at my husband and smiled before taking another drink, "Now you see why I married her."

"You were the one who told me what an ugly place the world is from killing," Bram said, trying to talk her away from what she had just said.

"Sweetheart, I know you didn't have that little girl sitting on _your_ bladder for nine months, but if you lie to me for a second that if some demon or something wasn't summoned out of the pits of hell and posed a direct threat to your daughter- which it kind of does now considering the only person with reference to this summoning is living in your house- and _you_ wouldn't massacre anyone who thought of pulling a shit stunt like that in a fucking heartbeat, then you give that little girl to her mother and leave."

It had never been said so directly before in history. Zofie stared up at him in absolute dismay; firstly, Bram didn't condone more than _damn_ and _hell_ in her presence, but to accuse him of not loving her enough to save her...  
He glared at Natasha as if she were the source of his problems. He pulled our baby closer and hissed at her very quietly, "You know beyond a shadow of a fucking doubt that I love Zofie more than words can bear. You know I would kill anything and everything that put her in danger, even if it meant condemning the world and myself."

"Then quit being a prick and help us plan," she said softly and simply.

"We'll sit Valentine down when he gets home," he said, attempting to break the tension that had risen between them.

"Or we can break into his room."  
For once, Vinnie's air head comments made sense. Natasha leaned her head on her folded hands, quietly debating with her morals on breaking into a sorcery den while I glanced at Zofie. She shrugged, "I can open it."

"It's locked," Bram murmured. "Don't tell me he taught you lock picking too."

She smiled, her little eyes glittering like gemstones. Very gently, she climbed off her father's lap and took his empty glass. She placed her frog in the cool water and headed inside. Amused, we trickled after her up the stairs and to Valentine's room. She paused outside the door, and with her eyes glittering warmly, she murmured, "_Novari arturnum._"

"Holy shit," Vinnie muttered. The lock clicked open audibly and she pushed the door in as if her uncle were waiting on the other side. She paused in the doorway, grinning as she waited for me. A part of me was terrified and the rest thrilled. I stepped inside and began looking for the book I had seen in his hands.

"It's in the heart box," she said. I stopped in my tracks with my hand on the half-open nightstand drawer. I lifted my eyes in dismay, but Zofie just blinked, batting her lovely black lashes. "It's in the heart box. Uncle Val keeps everything magic in the heart box."

Of course. That was why he figured I knew. I ducked into his closet and withdrew the slender black book from the interior lining, tucking it against my chest and turning quickly to make sure I wasn't being observed. I left the box of hearts and guided my daughter from the room. The door remained unlocked in our wake as I made no attempts to hide my daughter's newfound talents, and my own sibling treachery.

"Can I keep the frog?" she murmured, "Cause if he turns into a prince, that'd be nice. You'd like it if I had a brother, wouldn't you?"

"I think the frog ended up to be her husband in that story, dear, and you're a bit too young."

She shrugged, "I never said I was gonna kiss it, I'd make Aleksi do that." She headed off toward her room and her best friend followed her. Natasha passed me, going to make sure they didn't make a wet mess everywhere they went for me. "Sounds like she already got herself a brother."


	30. Chapter Thirty

_Chapter Thirty_

With papers spread out across the coffee table, I translated. The basic mechanics of learning sorcery were simple; a sorcerer understood and believed. I had never been particularly fond of altering the balance of things, but when it came to matters like these, it was all I could do.  
The forward clamed that the book had been bound with something powerful; a homing beacon of sorts to others who practiced its contents. I spent the afternoon locked away in our library translating it and copying every single word from the text itself down. I read, I studied, and I understood. The small kernel of my self that had believed in the existence of magic grew exponentially, until I found myself attempting to practice the most basic of non-incantations. By midnight, it was all copied down, every single word of it, triple-checked for accuracy and complete with notes from sections beyond it. It was the most simplified form of magic I had ever seen, thanks to twentieth century nonsense on making everything layman.

Bram was still awake when I reached the study. I pulled down one of his law encyclopedias and tucked all of my papers in the pages. He glanced up from his laptop to look at me only briefly before shaking his head and turning away, "How did it go?"

I rose on my toes and pushed the book into its proper place. The tiny witchcraft book seemed to understand its position in my world, for it seemed to look more weathered and worn as I knelt by the hearth to start a fire, "We'll find out momentarily."

My husband watched with muted curiosity as I lit the dry kindling with his lighter and a few bits of old newspaper and gently placed the book inside. Both of us waited for something mystic and life-affirming, yet nothing came. In minutes, the beaten old parchment and leather had gone to flame and smoldered in the fireplace. He set his laptop down and reached for me, guiding me from my perch on the edge of the table back to his embrace. He kissed my temple and murmured into my ear, "I'm so proud of you."

"I transcribed it," I murmured. "Paper has no bonding to it, it can't be traced if someone should come after this."

He nodded. We sat, laced together that way, watching the remnants of the otherworldly kingdom we were trying to combat burn in the fireplace. He toyed with the ends of my hair gently. The sound of his breath and the crackling hearth brought memories of years past. They brought a familiar smile to my face as I nestled against him. "Do you remember when I was pregnant with Zo? We had that horrible winter, and that blizzard we were so afraid of?"

He nodded, the light touch remaining. I had brought him as much comfort in burning the book as I had brought myself. Maybe it would work and they would be deterred from our family, or maybe we had angered them a bit more. Regardless, there were only four, and if we found them soon, we could easily thwart their plans. He shifted slightly, his fingers slipping from his side onto my stomach. He murmured gently in my ear, his voice soft and musical. "We planned for days, we stocked the house, you made sure all of our friends would stay home because you worried about them so much. And when it came, you turned off all the lights to keep power, and we laid here in front of the fire." He broke into a smile I could feel, his fingers tracing a familiar path along my stomach. "You were so nervous, all she did was kick, and it made you so exhausted. You started crying and I rubbed your stomach until both of you calmed down."

I kissed his jaw. My lips brushed feather-light stubble before breaking into a smile. I slid my fingers along the other side, imagining how it would redden my skin if I brushed my touch over it over and over again. "You've always been the best husband I could've hoped for."

He withdrew from me to meet my eyes and he understood that the terror that remained in my heart was not for me. Our daughter was so young. Being exposed to such things was altering. "What if they blend in?" I whispered. "They gather themselves, hide themselves. Change their names and become sleeper agents. Dracula will go on a witch hunt."

His fingers slipped gently into my hair, cradling my head in his hand. I could've let my muscles rest; he would've supported me. Very gently, his lips pressed to mine, "I have stood by you for eleven years, and if it takes witchcraft to keep my family safe, then I will practice it myself."

The door to the den opened with a whisper of air and Zofie padded across the floor. Her little eyes were dim with exhaustion and her golden locks sat ruffled on her head. Her pajamas were damp, as if she'd put them on after swimming, and I saw the trace of tear-paths down her face. "I had a bad dream," she whispered.

I broke my closeness to Bram and scooped her up, kissing her head softly. "It's alright my dearest, we'll go take care of it."

She curled into me. Bram shifted to follow, to which I didn't rush him. She clung to me and hid her face out of embarrassment as I carried her up to her bathroom and set her down on the floor. "It's okay, princess, it happens to everybody."

She pouted, but she got ready for a bath without question. I went out to her bedroom and pulled her sheets free, pausing when I saw a dark splotch of red among her blankets. They stayed half-peeled back while I dashed back in and grasped her gently, "Were you bleeding?"

She shrugged. I looked her over and turned her, sighing with relief when I noticed a healing scratch on the back of her calf that seemed as if the scab had been itched off. I squeezed her tightly. It still leaked a bit of blood, but kids' wounds seemed to do that.

"Mama, it's okay," she giggled, "You can let go now."

I breathed a sigh of relief. No amount of parenthood would ever prepare a person for the terror of seeing their child bleed. No amount of big talking would ever take away the truth in my words when I vowed to destroy anyone who laid a hand on her. I kissed her forehead firmly and attempted to the best of my ability not to shake. If I said I was suffering anxiety, I would've had to be honest. I'd been anxious since she was conceived. She was the most precious thing to me, but having her outwardly threatened brought something painfully new to me. Every day, I woke up looking forward to going to sleep again, because I knew every moment of my day would be spent worrying. Endless tasks, endless needs to be met, every thought became overwhelming by noon and coated in absolute terror of turning around in the next moment to find one thing out of place to betray an assassin's presence. She was too young to understand that I was terrified for her more than she would understand for years to come, and as intelligent as she was, I didn't want to rob her of that innocence.

Bram came in, placing her sheets in her laundry basket and handing me her hair brush. I released her to gently coax the tangles from her locks while he gathered up her clothes, and she sighed. "I feel like a wimp. Aleksi doesn't wet the bed and he watches his daddy's movies."

"Aleksi's a boy, my love," I murmured. "Some stereotypes aren't necessarily stereotypes at all."

She sighed still, but allowed her father and I to fuss over her. I washed her while he dressed her bed. Anyone who claimed a marriage wasn't equal didn't have a partner like him. We were both equal parts work and child-rearing, even our daughter noticed. She watched her father tuck her princess sheets in with a completely straight expression and smiled, "Aleksi says his daddy doesn't like girly stuff."

"Your father used to help me with my makeup. There's an exception to everything."

She giggled. Her eyes were so warm despite being so tired. She climbed out of the water when she was clean and into my toweled arms. I dried her while she cuddled into my chest, her wet hair soaking into my shirt. Her eyes began to droop before I'd even gotten her dressed.

When she was safely tucked into her new pajamas, Bram gently took her from my grip and put her to bed. She sunk like a stone into the safety of her bed, wrapped up in her blanket like a swaddled baby and surrounded by a few of her favorite toys. I cleaned up after her bath and kissed her forehead on my way out. He paused behind me at her door before doubling back to check the locks on the windows. I went into our room and climbed into the middle of our bed. My muse was strong after reading so much, but my physical energy was nearly gone. I wanted to feed, but my stomach felt turbulent. I was tempted to call Mr. D and see if they had made any new leads. I knew they hadn't.

He left our door and hers ajar and slipped inside. He perched on the edge of the bed near me and rubbed the feeling into my calves again. My arms were folded gently atop my knees and my chin propped on them. The silence was beautifully deafening.

"I'm scared," I admitted, grasping his hand. "I know you want to tell me there's nothing to be worried about, but we don't even know what we're up against."

"What do you suggest?" he murmured.

I had a single, desperate idea that I knew he would oppose, yet I voiced it anyway. "I want to go undercover. Not even Dracula should know, but if he must.."

"No," he whispered. I continued anyway.

"I can draw them out, I can make them feel safe. They can tell me what they're planning and I can stop it."

"Gory, no," he whispered. The ruby of his eyes was hard, demanding and stubborn. He would not cave to this whim. "This is not a good idea. When Natasha said plan something, I thought you meant something with sense."

"We can send someone," I whispered. "If you don't want me to do it, we can send someone else. Just trust me, Bram. You know you can trust me, I'm very rarely wrong."

He asked with his eyes who would be powerful enough for them to trust and smart enough to resist them. I heard the door unlock below and my brother's tenor humming as he entered and locked the door behind him. It was half past midnight, no doubt he'd finished a rendezvous with Cupid. My eyes brightened, my husband's rolled. Still, he patted my knee and sighed, "As much as I do want to resist you, this may just be crazy enough to work."

I kissed him brightly and stood, "Then you wait here and we can celebrate later."

He laid back on his side of the bed, sighing as he stretched his arms beneath his head. "I'll hold you to that," he said softly as I dashed out to corner my brother before he went to bed. As much as I would've loved to minimize my collateral damage in our miniature war, enough risks had been taken and enough games played. If I could depend on someone to support every crazy idea that came into my mind, it was Valentine, because brothers were notorious for doing the same crazy things.


	31. Chapter Thirty-One

_Chapter Thirty-One_

There was a weight pressing down on my chest. It seemed to bleed into me, coloring the darkness behind my eyelids red. My heart rate kicked up to an unhealthy level, pounding my ribcage like a terrified human's. Slowly, my eyes drew themselves from the pool of red and opened slowly, aching as if they had never had tears to coat them. The shadows around me were tangible, they had weight. They had energy. And maybe it was my terrified mind, but they had eyes and teeth-

"Gory!"

My head snapped up. It took me a moment to realize I had been staring down at the last line of my chapter for an excessive amount of time. Valentine was steeping my hibiscus tea, his brow raised. "I said I am going out with some friends later." The look he gave me was pointed. I nodded, understanding, and massaged my eyes. The left one ached, dry from a general lack of sleep. I had gone from nine to ten hours a night to somewhere between seven and eight; I forced myself to wake up and beat my anxiety back for a few hours while I worked. It was a necessary strategy at the moment, even though the moments of absence were becoming more and more frequent.

I laid my head on my arm for a moment, trying to combat my tiredness. I rubbed my eyes slowly and rolled my shoulders. My brother set the warm mug by my arm and murmured, "Grab your teddy bear and go to bed."

I stuck my tongue out at him. He shook his head and passed me part of his lunch. "I have a late shift today since Holt is taking over Fridays with Chariclo. A lot of the station is mixed between the both of them, so naturally we've had to expand his job."

I thought of all the time I hadn't been able to spend with Jackson and it weighed my heart down. The last thing I wanted was for him to be anywhere near me at the moment, lest things escalate quickly, but it still came to mind rather quickly how much I wanted him to be around. Since we'd been traveling back and forth between Chicago for school and here with our family for vacations, we hadn't seen each other very much. I ran my fingers through my hair, making my brother laugh. He brushed a stray lock back of what used to be bangs, meeting my eyes sympathetically. "Trust me, you do not have it as bad as his wife for a change. Try being married to both of them, it's a circus."

I laughed, "I'd rather not."  
There was one thing about living with Valentine that made life a bit simpler. Even though we didn't communicate many things, we observed and understood each other. He knew where I kept my tea when I needed a glass, and he knew to keep the peanuts on his salad on his portion, and just leave me with lettuce, dressing and fruit. The curtains were pulled back to allow me a view of the mostly-sunny sky, a far cry from the early morning gloom of a passing rain. Ever since this whole ordeal had began, I'd come to loathe rain. I always waited for it to become more, but it never did. I was always grateful, but I would've been happy for the broken sun as I was today on a regular basis. Everything glistened in lime green hues and quivered in the breeze. I glanced down at the salad Val had made and suddenly wished for something a bit more comforting.

"You look like hell," he observed.

"I feel like it," I murmured. "Even I had nightmares last night." If I decided a nap was in order, I probably would have to pull one of my bears out of my closet. I had given Zofie quite a few of my stuffed animals from my semi-childhood, but quite a few given by old friends and acquired on meaningless trips to places with my parents had stayed with me. I felt trapped in the middle ground of young adulthood, even though I had been there for centuries. A happy child became a repressed teenager, who blossomed into a happy young woman. Change happy to devoted and woman to wife and mother, and that was about the only difference in the past seven years. I curled up on my keyboard and hoped, in vain, for a miraculous experience from the heavens to restore my sanity to where it had been.

"Eat," he murmured. I didn't realize his mouth was full until I looked up.

"This is exhausting, Val," I murmured. I stabbed my fork blindly into the vegetation and speared myself an apple wedge and several dressing-coated leaves. He nodded. I went back to typing while I ate, stationing myself metaphorically in the kitchen. He headed around the counter and kissed the side of my head firmly with brotherly obnoxiousness. "It'll be over soon."

"Hopefully we won't be with it," I replied.

He laughed, but I was serious. I took complete advantage of my time and wrote. I typed until the words didn't make sense. Zofie had been in and out a few times, so I couldn't put an exact number on how long I'd been mentally checked out, but I finally saved my draft and returned to the land of the living.

"I'm going out," Valentine said, pausing at the door, "Have you moved since I left?"

"Likely not," I replied. Embarrassment warmed my cheeks. I hadn't even noticed he'd left. He rolled his eyes and buttoned his jacket, "Please don't sit inert all night, you'll give yourself a blood clot or something."

I tried not to smile, but it slipped past anyway. With half-lidded eyes, I grinned. "You really do care."

He rolled his eyes and walked away. I heard the door open and shut swiftly, and as I gathered my supplies and went upstairs I heard him pull away. I tucked everything in place before knocking on Zofie's door.

"It's open," she called out.

"Hey," I murmured. "Wanna go get a tea with me, princess?"

She looked up from where she and Aleksi were observing the frog in a glass and shrugged. "Can we get a tank for him too?"

"Did you even give him a name?" I asked.

She stood up and put on her shoes, "Flynn Rider."

I smiled and forced myself not to laugh. Aleksi followed her lead, since apparently inviting Zofie entailed bringing along her new best friend and her frog. I stared at the little creature, unsure if leaving him in the car would be cruelty or if bringing him in would be allowed. "Get one of my old containers too stained for someone to see through and poke some holes in the lid," I said when Aleksi picked up the frog. He nodded, stepping past my legs to go fulfill the command. Zofie looked at me, "He has a great destiny. He's going to be the prince of frog kind."

"Did he tell you that?" I asked, catching her swinging foot as I stepped to the side of the bed and fixing her shoe for her.

She shrugged, "I don't speak frog."

I stood a bit too fast and found my world spinning. My eyes thrummed gently. I regained myself to find myself having sat on her floor, pinching my sinuses forcefully under the bridge of my glasses. Zofie stared at me with worry, "I don't think you should be driving."

"Nonsense," I murmured, "I'm just tired."

She gave me the same chastising look as her father. I was momentarily proud. I rose anyway, kissing her forehead and trailing out into the hall-

and I wasn't in the hall anymore. My heart beat quickly and I grasped my chest, about to call out to the people I saw when my brother's hand clasped desperately over my mouth. I knew the moment he silenced me.  
There were four of them, and they were gathered around a bonfire. I grasped Valentine's jacket tightly, shocked at the legitimate feeling of gripping fabric and being gripped by his hand. He watched in silence as the bodies- there were so many of them. I didn't understand why they needed so many of them- were taken one by one, anointed with something, and dropped into the pyre. With each one, I felt my pulse increasing. It felt hotter. Silently, but somehow communicated, he whispered for me to stay where I was and pulled away. I didn't know magic, I didn't know how to go back and right things for myself. I didn't know how to help him or how to stop them, but he did. I tried to calm my heart as he touched the fire, but it didn't harm him. He took the energy from it and pulled it into himself. I watched him feed off the raw flame,

They noticed then. I didn't think it was possible, but he was more vivid, and they were trying. He held up his hand and looked at me, "Come here."

"Are you insane?" I hissed.

"They can't see you or hear you so get your ass over here!"

I did. It was one of the most potentially stupid things I had done in my entire life, but I ran across the open yard and grasped the hand he had in the fire. He held out mine.

The touch of the flames didn't hurt me. They didn't feel like fire. They felt like a caress. It was energy, pure white energy. I found myself breathless, lowering myself beside the heat and pushing both hands into the center. I could clench its source in my hands, and it felt like raw, physical pleasure. My eyes went skyward and the heavens themselves melted away. The caressing of my skin went into my skin, it went into my bones, it made everything sing. I had never been more alive than I was right now, leeching this power from them. Valentine yanked me back and grabbed my hands in his. The sensation of brightness felt torn out of me. Our eyes locked, and he pushed.

The vague, distant-sounding footsteps were rushing up the stairs. My skull began a dull throb that slowly became an uncomfortable, sleepless tingle. I could've gone to sleep, but Bram was at my side. He shook my shoulders and I hit his arm.

"Shit," he muttered.

"She's awake," Rain observed.

"Thank you, Lady Obvious," he replied. I couldn't describe the way I felt for the first time in my life. It was powerful, as if I had become a god, but pleasurable, as if I'd entered the afterglow of a night I couldn't remember. I grasped his arm and brought him closer to me, kissing the place I'd smacked away. "Don't shake me."

"Don't faint," he replied. His fingers laced in my shirt as he pulled me up. I kept my feet firmly grounded, forcing him to steady me instead of carrying me.

"Smartass," I muttered.

I rolled my relaxed muscles in hopes to return a measure of realistic tension to them, but they refused to retain the stress. I rubbed my neck and nearly fell back on Zofie's bed, giggling in glee. Everything was reinvigorated. I felt young, strong and invincible. My phone rang in the other room and I kissed my daughter and my husband before dashing off to it.

"Val," I chirped expectantly.

"Thank you," he said, "They didn't complete what they planned on, but we do have another...small problem."

I picked up my tea and sipped, "How small?"

I heard him sigh and a soft thump. My mind translated it to a body hitting grass, much to my chagrin. "How do you feel about having Lucifer over for tea, honestly?"

I thought he was joking. I _really_ hoped he was joking.  
He wasn't.


	32. Chapter Thirty-Two

_Chapter Thirty-Two_

Zofie slept on my lap and Aleksi on his mother's while we waited for Valentine to return. Vinnie perched in one of the chairs, dozing off to _Addams Family_ reruns while Bram paced the floor restlessly.

"Let's be completely honest with ourselves," Natasha spoke up, breaking our mutually absent silence, "There is a very large chance that this is really not a bad thing."

I seconded Vinnie's assessment of the situation. With as little jostling as possible, I scooped up Zofie to take her to bed. Bram paused his pacing to watch me. I pressed her little body very close to my own, and I paused beside him momentarily to kiss his cheek. "Whenever you're through, darling, we're going to bed."

He didn't ask me if it was an entirely safe idea, but even being gathered together wasn't exactly a safe idea. Before he had the chance to respond, my brother breezed into the room and extended his arms widely like a modern-day Van Helsing. "I have good news and slightly bad news," Valentine declared, beaming.

"Bad first," Bram murmured, crossing around the sofa to produce a stashed bottle of liquor from the cabinet.

"Dracula will probably question our involvement in this, and there is a demon on the loose." He grinned. I couldn't help but smile as I rocked Zofie slowly. "The good?"  
"The demon isn't Lucifer and our rebellion is squashed." He kissed my cheek before moving to Natasha's. She smiled in passing and my brother took up the seat across from her husband, "I've put up a barrier around the house, so you ladies are allowed to go to bed whenever you like."

"I will gladly take you up on that," she replied. She gathered Aleksi and glanced to me. I rolled my eyes, even knowing it was safest for the both of them. "Thank you, Val."

He simply smiled. Vinnie sat up, rubbed his eyes ever so slightly and murmured, "You gotta spill about dating Cupid sometime man."

We departed to the sound of my brother's laughter in our wake.  
I headed for Zofie's room instinctually and gently nudged the door open with my hip. Flicking the lights on with my elbow, I crossed the room to her bed mechanically. "Where does he sleep when he isn't in here?" I asked, suddenly curious.

"With Vinnie and I," she replied. "He passes out like clockwork every night around eleven so it's not like we're missing out on anything."

I laughed. I laid Zofie in one side and allowed Natasha to place Aleksi in beside her. They turned away from each other instinctually, seeming to make sure the two of us didn't stop smiling. I tucked them in and kissed both of their heads. Zofie snuggled into her pillow while Aleksi laid there like a lump, totally unmoving and unaffected by anyone else's movement. "Sometimes I wonder if that's what we look like," Natasha murmured.

I glanced at her, "Please don't tell me you want them together in the future too."

She smiled and shrugged. "What will be will be. It's hard for him to make friends, I'm just glad he has Zofie."

I let her out and flicked off the light. The dim glint of her frog's aquarium lamp off the water inside was the only light left in the room, toward which Zofie had turned. I smiled, slipping the door shut and heading to my own room. I paused by the door, turning back to Natasha and saying very softly, so not to disturb them, "I'm glad they have each other too. I hope you'll consider staying."

She smiled. I slipped into the darkened bedroom and went directly to bed, tugging the sheets up around myself. I slid my glasses from my eyes and settled in to think properly over what Valentine had dragged me into. My muscles still felt relaxed. I wound my fingers in the edge of the pillowcase, tracing my fingers over the embroidery and remembering. Warmth, rest, euphoria. It felt like being dosed with ecstasy while getting a massage, yet nothing like it at all. The sensation was impossible to recall, yet it didn't feel as if I'd stopped feeling it since. The shadows didn't seem suffocating tonight.

Eventually, Bram slipped in and climbed into bed. I didn't move to face him, my fingers tracing the fabric habitually. "Are you upset?" I murmured.

His arms wrapped lovingly around my upper body, his chin resting on my shoulder for a moment before his lips pressed softly to the spot. "Not with you, just with Valentine for getting you involved."

I patted his hand before lacing our fingers together. "There's nothing to be angry at him for. Obviously we've put a stop to the worst of it."

"They unleashed something regardless," he murmured. "And it was stupid of him to think of involving you."

I placed our interlaced hands near my heart. "I don't think he meant to. I think it was literally just chance, and the people closest connected to the gifts were pulled in too."

He was silent for a moment before he murmured, barely audibly, into my skin. "Connected to the book, perhaps."

It would've explained why Zofie hadn't been pulled in with us, or maybe it was study to a certain degree. But Bram was right, the book was likely the reason we had been together in that circle, on a separate plain from the people who were conjuring. They might've been able to summon something worse, but we'd stolen that energy. I still found it hard to understand, but the feeling that had coursed through my body had been raw magic. "I wish you had been there," I whispered to him. His grip on me tightened. I knew he wished he had too. He loved protecting me, thinking that I actually needed his protecting. I knew it scorched his tender ego when he was forced to see that I didn't need him as much as he thought I did under rational reasons. I brought his knuckles to my lips in silence. The action might've soothed him before, but it didn't today. He laid against me, sulking like a little boy. He liked to play king, pretend he was my master and protector, even though he and I both knew how equal we were. He knew I didn't listen, that was easier to cope with than knowing that if it really came to it and I was forced to fight for myself alone, I wouldn't need him. We had been young once. Evenly matched. I wondered if he could overpower me at all, or if time had softened the parts in both of us that had once been hard.

His fingers brushed the collar of my shirt slowly, repetitively. He was trying to lull me to sleep, but the strength of my grip never wavered. I could've laid awake all night beside him.

"I don't know what to say to you," he whispered.

"What do you think I want you to say?" I replied.

He pulled gently from my hold and forced me to turn to him. His eyes burned somewhere between complete, zelatious devotion and fury. He met my gaze and held it firmly as if he were holding my chin in place. "I think you want me to brush this off as some meaningless display of _Bram-can't-get-a-hold-on-his-pride_ but it's not. I'm genuinely worried about you. I care about you, Gory, and you're brushing me off like my caring is pointless."

"It's not pointless," I replied. He laid his head on the pillow and slipped his hand against my waist. It laid motionless on my hip, warm and heavy with his presence. I laid beneath it, knowing that his presence would always overshadow me. I didn't give him enough credit for these things. He had always been a very persuasive negotiator for good reason; he had just the right amount of arrogance and sheer stubbornness to cause problems.

"You love me," he murmured, "So why don't you appreciate me?"

I looked at him like he was insane. "I do appreciate you," I whispered. "You're my other half. I can't do the majority of the things I do without you."

He sighed softly, "Never mind. I don't want to talk about this."

"If you think I don't appreciate you, we _have_ to talk about this. Bram-"

He turned away from me. I crawled closer anyway, and out of protest nipped his skin. It was hard enough to register as a pinch, and it made him snap around on reflex. He shot me a look, and I gave him control. I laid back and rolled on my back. It was a very animalistic thing, but he picked up on the cue instinctively. He moved just a little closer and rested his hand along my waist. "I do nothing but please you," he murmured. "Normally, that's fine, but lately you've been worse than strange. You haven't been eating properly, you haven't been sleeping-"

"It's summer, I'm usually nocturnal," I murmured.

He sighed. His fingers traced my waist lightly. "I know your starting to get your anxiety back. Gory, it's going to go down from there."

I shook my head and turned to him, forgoing the comfort of submission so he would listen to me. "No, it's not. Because we're going to take care of this, and my best friend is getting married, and my brother has a girlfriend who can deal with him, and everyone can move out but stay in Salem and we'll take Rain-" He moved to cut me off, but I placed my fingers lightly over his lips. "Everything will be okay. We're not going down that road again."

He drew my hands up to his lips and kissed the inside of either wrist. "You haven't had the time to grieve. When it hits, it's going to hit hard."

I nodded and I folded myself into his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around my back and kissed my forehead softly. "I'm sorry I've been so unfair to you," I murmured. "Just deal with me while we deal with this, that's all I can ask of you."

"I'm going to be completely honest," he murmured. "I would deal with you if you became Valentine in the next twenty four hours."

I laughed. I buried my face into his chest and traced my fingers slowly over his skin. He cupped my face and drew it up to his very gently. His lips pressed softly to mine and he let go, adjusting himself against me with a soft yawn. "Don't forget, we have that bloody rehearsal dinner or whatever it is tonight."

An exaggerated groan left my lips and I allowed my head to thump against his chest. He laughed, his chest moving very slightly with the sound. His arm draped over my back, fingers tangling softly in the ends of my hair, "All the more reason to catch up on our rest."

Still, we didn't. We laid there, laced together, for a very long time. I realized that I had been nothing but anxious and solitary since this whole problem had begun, and I wanted nothing more than to put this behind me and move forward. My breath warmed his shirt, and even then, we didn't sleep. I listened to the gentle thump of his heart for a very long time, the darkness in front of my eyes only vaguely different from that behind their lids. For the first time in weeks, I felt completely at peace. There was a part of me that knew there would be sun in the morning. That showers could come and go, but there would be no storms.

"Thank you," I murmured.

He grunted, on his way to sleep.

"You could've left me years ago. You could've never cared for me at all, but you did. And I'm extremely grateful."

He released a quick, breathless chuckle and held me a bit tighter, "Gory, if there's one thing you ought to know, it's how exponentially I love you."


	33. Chapter Thirty-Three

_Chapter Thirty-Three_

"Zofie, let's go!" I called upstairs while I fastened my earrings. I hoped it wasn't too much to anticipate a gentler dress code at their rehearsal dinner, since the sleeveless, frock-cut black dress was paired with a delicate pair of pearl earrings. I had clipped up my hair, leaving the long strands down, and wore my simplest black patent pleather pumps. Zofie paused at the stairs in her dress, her slender brow quirked slightly and she took deliberate steps down to the halfway point of the stairs. She gave me a very pointed look. "I feel like I'm going to church."

I laughed out loud. Her navy blue tea dress had a white collar, cuffs and hem with a white waistband that twisted into a delicate bow on her lower back. Her hair was brushed and clipped back, making her every bit the little princess I knew she was. I laughed and kissed her forehead gently, "No, my love. You look lovely, and you're going to tea with auntie."

She sighed, stepping off the stairs and folding her arms over her chest. She turned on her heel to look pleadingly at Aleksi where he lingered by the railing. "Watch Prince for me, will you?"

He nodded. My brother passed him and ruffled his hair. He held out a pair of cufflinks to me, nearly forcing me to roll my eyes at him. "Prince and Princess would have a play date if Princess were a little more aqueous."

I buttoned his cufflinks and pinched his cheeks, "Now, you play nicely with the other kids. No pulling hair when you like someone."

He rolled his eyes. I patted down the collar of his tux, about to call up to Bram when he smacked my backside in passing. I squeaked and laughed, "Val, you ass!"

My husband jogged lightly down the stairs, buttoning the cuffs of his shirt. He kissed my lips lightly and patted Zofie's shoulder, "Alright, we have to go or we'll be late. Vinnie-?"

"Under control!" I heard from the kitchen. "We'll see ya guys later!"

Zofie sighed and headed out after her uncle. Valentine was already in his car, waiting for the lot of us. She glanced at me eagerly, making me roll my eyes. "Ladies in the back," Valentine chirped as he put down the hood. I glanced at Bram and took the shotgun seat beside my brother, much to his surprise. He shrugged, "Well, you might mess up your hair. I don't intend to drive slowly."

"I don't intend to let it down," I replied. My husband chuckled as he clasped his seatbelt and checked our daughter's. Engine revving, Valentine pulled around the drive and down the road. We picked up speed down the slope to the main road, and though adrenaline-coated instinct sang in my veins to continue this brazen and dangerous method of travel, my logical mind tensed in anxiety. I smacked his arm, "Slow down, you don't have any girls to impress!"

He simply laughed, accelerating that way through town. "Oh lighten up, Gory! Live a little! We're all immortal!"

The fact that I would live through something didn't make it any less stupid and dangerous. All of my logic warred with my body as it relaxed, but I forced my logic to subside. I focused on the thought Bram had passed to me of watching a paintbrush trace loops over paper. Thinking of watching the paintbrush while not moving my head. Forcing myself to calm down and release the door, so the wind traced my rings and drummed my hair gently over my cheeks. He did slow down before we arrived, much to my gratitude.

As we pulled up and piled out, he tossed the valet his keys and smiled, "When you take a break, remember me."

Bram rose a brow, allowing Zofie to head inside ahead of us. "I don't think he's legal, Val."

He laughed, "I wasn't flirting, I was merely giving the boy permission for what I saw in his eyes."

My husband shook his head. We wandered in behind Zofie, my eyes trailing instinctively after her while she ran to Clawd and Draculaura. Nearly instantly, Valentine broke away from us to rush over to his girlfriend. My stress seemed to relieve all at once. There would be no attacks, Valentine wouldn't be going to my betrothed best friend any time soon, and Draculaura seemed to have forgotten her selfishness altogether. We followed our daughter as Clawd scooped her up and kissed her cheek brightly. The way Zofie smiled made it seem as if the sun had come to crest in the evening. I breathed deeply in relief and continued doing so.

"Gory," Draculaura sing-songed. She grasped me tightly as I opened my arms for her, burying her perfectly made-up face into my shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered. I kissed the top of her head, "No, thank you."

She withdrew, and I passed myself to the still largely-muscled werewolf. I kissed his cheek playfully and pinched his bowling-ball firm bicep, "Mm, if she wasn't marrying you, I'd be all over you like chocolate syrup."

He blushed, "You're married."

Bram laughed, "We would've done it in high school."

Clawd's face went an even deeper shade of red and my best friend playfully smacked my husband's arm. "Shush, that's my husband you're teasing. Would you like it much if I slept with Gory?"

He glanced to me slyly, a playful twinkle in his eyes. He quirked his brows suggestively, making me giggle. Zofie clung to her uncle-to-be and smiled to the both of us, "Can I stay with them?"

"Would it be horrible?" I teased. Draculaura beamed; she would never shirk her godmother-ly duties, not even at her own wedding party. I kissed Zofie's nose, "Behave." She nodded and clung to Clawd's shirt. Bram tapped my shoulder and much to my delight, I turned to see Jackson not ten feet behind me. He looked sheepish, obviously not having previously approached the bride and groom to be. I squeaked and dashed to him, throwing my arms around his neck. His arms wrapped tightly around my waist, pressing my body close for a moment. I kissed his cheek, leaving a red imprint on his skin. "I missed you."

He blushed more brightly than Clawd and I hadn't even teased him. He had grown from an adorable young man to an adorable and slightly attractive college boy. I kept my arms looped around his neck for a moment, grinning as I took in the sight of him. "Look at you, Mad Scientist. All grown up."

"Shush," he muttered. He kissed my cheek, "I'm happy to see you again, Gory. I missed you."

"Well you need to assert yourself with Holt, because I need some J.J. time. Your goddaughter misses you."

"I miss her too," he replied. His new bride beelined for her friends, teasingly shocking me in passing. I grinned and gave him another squeeze out of sheer joy. His fingers traced my back softly before he released me and pressed a soft kiss to my head, "I gotta go."

I released him gently, "Have fun. Talk to me later." His eyes glinted as he let go and joined Frankie.  
Bram and I wandered over by the other tables, talking with a few people on the way. Jonas and Kale were present; Lucy was at home, caring for their healthy, happy little girl named Crystal. He already seemed to have infinite pictures of her. I beamed over Tiff and Jacob's engagement and gushed with Clawdeen over Draculaura's taste in bridesmaid dresses. We had sat down to dinner and embarked on our mutually second glass of champagne when Bram nudged my arm.

I followed his eyes instantly. Lingering behind the barrier of the door was a shadow, but it wasn't quite a shadow. It was solid in form, only seeming to be restrained by something beyond celestial control. I turned, noticing my brother's eyes focused on the location. I stood, glancing to Draculaura across the room and whispering to Zofie, "Stay here."

My best friend caught my glance and nudged her father, but I had slipped away already. I tugged open my purse and produced a small pouch of herbs. The shadow shrunk from the doorway, progressively farther away as I approached. I intended that to be my tactic until Bram slipped after me and shut the door.

In the darkness, things happened fast. I could make out the features of eyes and teeth, and I threw my full weight against the celestial figure. It had surprising give, but only for a moment. A cold shudder slid through my body. Val was right, it was strong- strong enough to sustain its own energy for prolonged periods of time. I threw the herbs to Bram, "Surround it!"

The distinct features ebbed away, making the both of us cuss aloud. "Cristo," he muttered. I was slammed forward then. I slid across the floor and grabbed ahold of his hand, pulling myself to my feet in a fluid move that we had rehearsed in high school more times than I could count.

"Show time?" he teased.

I grasped his hand tightly and allowed him to support my weight. It charged us and I slammed my feet forward. It didn't deter it in the slightest. Bram held out the bag, only enough to make the figure evaporate again.

"If this is just going to be a game of cat and mouse, we're going to need another plan."

The herbs dropped from his hand. I froze. My breath released slowly as I turned; I half expected it to be visible. He met my eyes, equally as surprised as I was. "Bram?" I whispered.

He blinked as if dazed. The gentle grip that had held my arm grew tight, and suddenly I knew. No matter what I could've done, they would've hurt him, and I wouldn't have done it. His eyes snapped open, flat black, and I shook my head slowly.

"You're her daughter," he murmured, "The one I've been hearing so much about."

I found myself smiling as tears ran down my face. "Just let him go."

He shook his head slowly, breaking into a fierce, strange grin. I backed away while I could, anything to draw him away from them. Anything to stop the thing inside him from keeping hold. "I just can't do that."

I wanted to turn and run, but I didn't have the reflex to run from him. I let him take hold of me, his hand wrapping around my throat until I felt like I couldn't breathe. I placed my hand over his, lacing the fingers of my other hand through it gently. His eyes dropped to our interlaced hands for a moment as if studying them before they rose to me once again. He quirked his head slowly, releasing the grip slowly. "It's really so unfortunate...so beautiful, so young. He loves you very much. He's fighting me, even now. Anything to defend you, even at the expense of his own soul."

"What do you want from me?" I whispered.

He quirked his head and broke into the most fearless, psychotic smile I had ever seen. I didn't think such a look could exist on Bram's face, but it did, and he wore it well. "I don't want anything _from_ you. Just to kill you, that's all. And that meddling brother of yours."

With the grip loose, I tried to pull free, but he grasped me tightly. He pulled me close and grasped the back of my neck. The thought crossed my mind that he could snap my spine and kill me if he wanted to. He pressed my body to his, something I took a little comfort in. He smiled, "It was never about Dracula, you know. Not for me. I don't care who rules my world...but maybe I'll keep you. Maybe for a bit."

I heard the door open behind me and my body slammed into glass. It exploded around me, cutting my skin. I dropped into a pile of it, the slashes coating my hands and arms whether I rolled away from it or not. It wasn't Valentine that joined us, though. It was Zofie.


	34. Chapter Thirty-Four

_Chapter Thirty-Four_

She stared him down like I had never seen her stare down another being before. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and opened her arms. "_Arternus Arcana._"

Bram's head quirked and he wandered toward her. I pushed myself up on my bleeding palms, swallowing my sheer terror to rise to my feet. He lowered himself to her level and looked at her, "What did you say to me, little girl?"

"Get out of my daddy." Her eyes were defiant, her delicate fingers curling into tiny fists. He laughed and rose his hand to strike her, but when he took notice of the necklace of Valentine's on her neck, his eyes narrowed. "Smart boy." He looked at me then, and before I could blink, he appeared in front of me. I stumbled back, catching my hand on jagged glass. He pulled me closer, chuckling darkly as he trapped my cut hand in his. Eyes burning like coals, his mouth came down over the wound and he made a soft sound of approval before sinking his fangs in. "Zofie, go," I snapped. "Go get your uncle!"

She stared at me, torn between fear and concern.

"Go!" I shouted with more volume. She did, turning and running inside as the thing that possessed my husband caught my throat. Even with his mouth pressed to my palm, I heard him hush me perfectly. He drew away from the bite he left on my palm, eyes glinting with more darkness than I had ever imagined. He traced his fingers softly over my cheek, his knuckles brushing my cheekbone, "I can see why he loves you."

"Let him go," I whispered, "Please."

"I'm not going to hurt him," he murmured, tracing the wound on my hand, "In fact...I think I want to take a little walk in his shoes." His arm snaked around my waist and he crushed my body to his chest. "Now...I want you to go clean up. Then we're going for a walk, just you and I, and we're going to settle this like adults."

"If you tell me what you want, I'll do it now," I whispered. Anything to free him. Absolutely anything. The demon inside my husband rolled his eyes and kissed my palm, "Well, we could alter the bargain just a little, but it'll take time...and I'd rather not wait."

He saw the pleading in my eyes and laughed, "Well, what the hell? Let's get on with it then." Sharp pain shot through my back as he pinned my body up against another door. I hit the handle, freeing it, and let him push me in. It was warmer, stickier, and I recognized the dawning night through the paneled greenhouse windows of an indoor garden. My lips pressed together with a sorrowful thought; we might've come here anyway, had all of this not happened. I wandered through the ferns and short bushes to a little fountain, bubbling water over its layers gently. Blood dripped off my fingers, ran small rivers down my arms as the cuts and scrapes healed. It could've been romantic how he wrapped his arms around me, but it was too rough to be Bram. Still, his lips brushed my neck in an ever-so-familiar way that made my breath catch.

"I almost want you," he whispered in my ear. "How much he loves you borders on the way I've seen men become alcoholics. Junkies. I've seen sex addicts before, but..." He grasped my hips, pressing my body forcefully against his. A soft chuckle left his lips, "Yeah. I can see why."

Something burned inside me, bordering on hatred and with all the passion of love. I felt those hands, the man I love's hands, tracing my body and tried to force myself not to give in. My lips betrayed me in releasing a shaky breath that threatened tears. He paused in his caress momentarily, the chuckles becoming a soft, full-blown laugh. "Are you afraid of me, _cara mia?_ Does your husband really make you shake with fear?"

The red from my skin dripped into the water and diluted, spreading like paint. He pushed me to my knees on the edge, forcing my legs apart. I grasped his hands in terror while my traitorous eyes brimmed over.

"I can do this and go," he murmured lightly. "I really don't care about doing anything much else. You and your brother don't know much...neither does that little girl. I could let bygones be, if you give yourself to me." I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm. I forced my breaths to pace as I slipped from the fountain and turned to him. He rose a brow, such a simple action, but it didn't feel like his. I pulled myself together and guided him off. He smiled, a wicked smile, and I sat down on a patch of grass. He dropped beside me, "Such a romantic."

I brushed my hair behind my ear and bared my neck, "Go on."

He shrugged and broke into a wide and evil smile, "I changed my mind."

My eyes widened only for a moment. He leapt, pinning me down on the false ground, sinking my husband's fangs into my neck. The sound that left me I had never heard before. I wasn't sure if I had ever heard myself scream in terror before. My blood gushed into his mouth, but he froze. His fangs slowly withdrew from my skin, his mouth sealing softly over my skin, his muscles slowly releasing their tension and withdrawing. The sight of his eyes were so very much my Bram's, the horror in them raw. "Get away from me," he whispered. "Take Zofie and go."

I shook my head. Blood spilled down my throat, tracing my skin, dipping down into my dress and coating my skin. I brought him closer, allowing him to drink from it. He gently pushed me away, "Gory, please."

I couldn't if I wanted to. I didn't feel strong enough. I wrapped my arms around his neck and sunk back into the grass, drawing his attention to the amount of blood leaving the wound. His lips fell to my neck, pressing to the tender wound over and over until I closed my eyes.

"Gory!" Valentine's voice pierced the calm that settled in. Bram snapped to his feet; whether it was Bram or not I didn't know, but he left me. I felt very cold and very light, drifting off into a sickly sleep. The sharp crack of a gunshot made my eyes snap open. There was no strength in my body, but I wasn't worried for myself. I forced myself to my feet and stumbled toward the fountain.

They both laid on the ground, dropped as if they had been surprised. I fell to my knees beside Bram and examined him, tracing his beautiful face for signs of injury and over his chest. My head snapped up at the sound of a reloading weapon. Draculaura's cousin Thad stared at me with the impartial courtesy of the Royal Guard before glancing to my brother.

"I saw it leave him to go into him. I waited for it to settle before doing what I needed to," the young man said. My mouth fell open in shock. I crawled to Valentine's side, touching the sweet-smelling stickiness of his blood. Very gently, he grasped my hand and raised his head. Relief coursed through my body and I threw myself onto him, laughing as we landed in the dirt. He winced, crying out slightly, but clutching me tightly. "Dracula trained them well," he murmured.

"You arrogant ass," I laughed. My head began to throb gently, but Bram's arms pried me from causing Valentine any more pain. I took one glance up into his eyes, the deep, rich, devoted ruby I had fallen so deeply in love with, and I collapsed into him. He buried his mouth against my neck, kissing the throbbing wound over and over until a dull pain settled in my neck. He scooped me up, leaving Val to fend for himself quite horribly, and looked at Thad. "We need blood, as much as you can get to us."

The young man nodded, "My uncle was prepared."

I extended my hand to my brother, and he grasped it without pulling. He groaned lightly, "Just drag me along, I'll be fine."

Thad shook his head and dragged him to his feet, "Alright, up with you." Valentine forced himself to stand, but drooped against the other male. I was surprised Bram had the energy he had, but love was certainly the renewable fuel. He carried me to the hall before I nudged him to let me down. I slipped into the bathroom and began to scrub the blood from my skin. He joined me, even if only for a moment, releasing the strand of hair I had tucked behind my ear and gently helping me scrub the blood from my skin. His touch was soft and warm, as warm as the silence that passed between us. He dabbed my skin with a wet cloth, brushing the rust colored marks away tenderly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I tried. I don't know what it was, but when you screamed that way...I overpowered it. I felt it letting go, because I was too much of a problem."

I sighed, glancing to him over my shoulder since the mirror didn't do either of us justice. "Sweetheart, you have beaten the legal system and you will beat the artistic revolution into the general populace. I didn't make you sign a contract in blood that bound you to defeating demons."

He laughed, dabbing my neck with the cloth and turning it, giving me a moment to glimpse the severe red on its gray-white surface. I restrained my stomach from turning, but only slightly. "You're incredibly selfless, my love," he murmured.

"I love you," I whispered. "I meant it when I said I wouldn't let anything happen to you. I got us partially into this mess, I intended to get us out of it."

"That was actually Valentine's fault," he said softly. He helped me dry my skin and gently pressed a fresh cloth to my neck, "Show time?"

I slipped my arm through his and folded the cloth so it sat against my neck. My arm was forced to cross my chest and hold it there, but the fingers of my free hand laced with his. He looked exhausted, as if he'd fought tooth and nail to the very last of his strengths. I knew how very easily I could've been killed, and that made his efforts all the more honorable.

"Yes, my lord," I murmured, "We shall."

"Will you stop with the knight jokes already?" he replied in teasing exasperation, "I win champion centuries ago and you have never let me live it down!"

I laughed. I just couldn't stop myself from laughing. He might've thought what he did meant absolutely nothing, that it only proved his love and reaffirmed my own, but his actions had proven him to be the white knight that our parents had painted him to be. Or rather, he was my golden knight, who supported me even in his own exhaustion. Who, as soon as we entered the room, scooped up his daughter and received the round of applause I directed at him, since apparently my gossip of a brother couldn't keep quiet for a moment. Chariclo attended to Valentine's wound, lecturing him on responsibility and trying not to be a hero when it could get him killed, but he just smiled and toyed with the pink-blond curls that bounced near her chin.

I was in the mood to sarcastically declare that we were all going to live happily ever after.


	35. Chapter Thirty-Five

_Chapter Thirty-Five_

After life returned to normal, things began picking up exponentially.  
Draculaura used her connections and her newfound job to get me published. It was needless to say, I spent two entire days awake, reading and rereading and working everything to the end. Bram read the final draft in two hours and proclaimed me perfection.

Charlie and Rain met officially at the wedding party. Ruth was happy to let him come back to the house with us, proclaiming him "too much to feed" and completely attempting to hint that she hoped he would do something productive with his life the way Bram and I had in our youth.

It kept me busy. Those few breaths of down time were filled with guilt and grief, and I had done a lot of cleansing crying over the course of those few days. I had spent a lot of time being doted on by Bram in response to his accidental possession, and after Zofie had regaled Aleksi with the tale of her witchcraft, he hung on her every word as if she could summon him courage ala the cowardly lion. I overheard him once telling her that he would've traded his innocent soul for hers if it had come to it, and it made her go as red-faced as Bram's compliments to me. I put a twenty in Vinnie's jacket out of surrender to the bet everyone seemed to have against me and the makeshift dowry I would never pay.

The weekend brought my best friend's wedding, a much-anticipated event for almost the entire monster world. Friday night, I had stayed over with Draculaura, leaving Saturday morning to be the earliest rise of my life. Before dawn, I burst into her room with Clawdeen and dragged our bride-to-be best friend out of bed, "Come on, Prince William, Kate's waiting."

She blinked, dazed, "What's Kate doing here?"

"She's not even coherent yet," Clawdeen laughed. I dragged her up and patted her cheeks. She held onto my arm and blinked very slowly in attempting not to sway. "What time is it?"

"Four. Your wedding is at eleven. Get going," Clawdeen said. I led the bride-to-be to her bathroom.  
Whoever had decided weddings were going to be the most stressful and invasive processes in a woman's life, they had done it solely for the comedy. I filled Draculaura's bath with cold water and Clawdeen warmed up the curling iron for her hair. Draculaura went through the process of brushing her teeth and her hair on her own, leaving the both of us waiting, feet tapping, brimming with enthusiasm. It was a new day.

"Can you leave?" she teased us both, "Or are you going to be my chamber maids?"

"I didn't sign up for slavery," I replied, "But I will pep-talk you into keeping on schedule."

She tossed her pajamas to Clawdeen and glanced to me, waiting for that talk. I rolled my eyes, grasped her face and kissed her forehead like the mother she didn't have, "Hurry up."

She laughed, pressing her soft lips to my cheek before shooing the both of us out. I glanced to Clawdeen, "You dress, me breakfast?"

"Thank you," the she-wolf replied. We split up to do our collective specialties; Clawdeen getting the dress and makeup ready for our friend and likely hurrying into getting dressed herself while I went downstairs to alternate. I realized that we were likely the only people awake at this hour when her uncle stirred from the sofa where he must've fallen asleep watching television hours before. He looked at me through his tortoise-shell glasses and squinted in the LCD light, "What time is it?"

"Time to get the bride ready," I replied. The thought took a moment to process, but he leapt to his feet in understanding and went upstairs to wake her father. I found myself making the most Irish, meat-stuffed breakfast I had made in my entire life. It only made my appreciation for Maggie's presence before my own wedding grow.

We spent a few hours dashing between stations of living. Draculaura had breakfast half-dressed while Clawdeen curled her hair, and when we had the opportunity to switch out with her uncle, we did. I was dressed and fully ready by eight. If it seemed like four hours was too long to get ready, Draculaura was ready by ten. And we had to leave by ten fifteen. I loved my best friend, but I swore to her multiple times over that if she had me help with a wedding that wasn't my daughter's or Rain's in the rest of my life, I would explode. I think she believed me, even caught between laughter and tears as she was.

I swore to all the higher powers, it was like a football game. I had never seen so many people enthused for a wedding before in my life. Maybe it was because Draculaura was one of the elite in our world, or maybe it was because the literal princess was about to be wed. Either way, as soon as we piled out in front of the gardens, the world came into focus for me. Everyone could be as happy for her as they wanted, but I had my own happiness to account for before I focused solely on her. I spotted them in the crowd instantly, Bram and his boss speaking quietly with our daughter on his hip. Her red and white dress was embroidered in velvet, trimmed in red lace and delicate, just like her. I swallowed thickly with joyful pride and crossed the isle to my family. My brother's arm was laced through his girlfriend's. Our friends mingled about around them. For a change, I didn't have eyes for the walking scandal that was Spectra or Cleo's designer finery. I simply bee-lined for them in my bridesmaid's dress, attracting my brother-in-law's attention first. Sean stepped out of our cluster and pulled me tightly to his chest. He rocked me softly, tugging my feet onto his toes. I nearly giggled. "You look beautiful," he whispered in my ear. I nodded in thanks, releasing him to embrace my cousins one by one with Rainy the last and the hardest. I transferred my love to my brother and my sister-to-be, and I nestled myself into the tiny grouping of my innermost family.

Zofie crawled from her father's arms to mine, making Bram's words a little more resonating. "And this is my better half, Gory."

I extended my hand. The councilman glanced at my rings, glanced at my husband and nodded approvingly before pressing my knuckles gently to his lips. "It's an honor and a pleasure, Mrs. Devein. I've heard so much about you that I feel as if I know you myself."

My husband's eyes glowed with pride. It felt so very right to have fallen into these roles we were given. He the proud husband, I the proud wife, my daughter completely indifferent and our strange, beautiful family at our side no matter the obstacle. I pressed my lips tenderly to Zofie's golden hair. She beamed in pride. "I have to go in a moment," I murmured to them, "but it was lovely meeting you, councilman."

He nodded, glancing to Bram with a small smile before heading off to meet with their mutual employer. My husband's eyes lit up and he picked me up, fully spinning me with Zofie in my arms and kissing me firmly on the lips. I laughed out loud, "Does this dress look that good on me?"

"Yes, but that's not why I decided to celebrate this time." His eyes glinted with such joy, such freedom that my breath caught in my throat. I anticipated the news before it reached my ears, but his fingers laced with mine and he clasped both of his hands around the free one of mine. He leaned in very close to me and whispered, "As soon as the next opening comes, I'm representing the Fangtell-Devein clans on the council. We mean something, my love."

I stared at him and exhaled slowly. Tears gathered behind my mascara-coated lashes and I resisted the urge to bite my purple-painted lips. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me enthusiastically. Zofie made a sound of protest at being squished between us, but he gathered her gently into his arms and murmured, "Go. Go celebrate with your friends, I'll celebrate with you later."

"No more kissing!" Zofie protested, clinging to her father, "You're too big to fit me in the middle!"

I was speechless. I glanced to Val in disbelief, but he only smiled and kissed my cheek, "Go. She'll be wondering where you are."

I turned and kissed them both again, gently, "I'm so proud of you."

There were openly blissful tears running down my face as I ran into the observatory. My skirt hitched up around my ankles, I ran into the bathroom where Draculaura was attempting not to cry off her own makeup and flung my arms around her. She clutched me with equal enthusiasm, such smiles on our faces that I feared my composure would break completely.

"Thank you," I found myself half-sobbing, "From the deepest bottom of my heart, Draculaura, thank you." It was a dizzying blur, too many details to make the lines from one task to another clear, but Draculaura held my arms tightly to her chest and murmured, "Thank you for not letting me screw up. All of you. You're the best friends anyone could ask for."

I was not the only one in tears, I realized at last. Clawdeen's face was graced with them, and she squeezed her best friend with incredible tightness to her chest. "Shush. You're gonna be my sister now. So give me a minute to breathe, because I picked this one and I like her."

"Hey," Howleen said from somewhere behind our friends. God, when did the bathroom become a female gathering place?

"I said shush," Clawdeen replied. They held each other as if they had waited for this for years. I imagined they had. I imagined that even when he was a baby, Draculaura had known to an extent how deeply she loved the boy. It was hard for me to imagine loving a whole group of people enough to raise them when they weren't my own, but not too hard. It was exactly the thing I imagined of her. It was exactly the thing I had imagined of myself. I glanced to Frankie and handed her a tissue before she shorted. One by one, the girls trickled out until the four of us remained with Cleo, who seemed to be even more beautiful than usual in teal-accented gold. She reached out and clutched Draculaura's hand, obviously taking no offence to her exclusion from the group of bridesmaids. "I think it's time to go. You don't want him to think you got cold feet, do you?"

"I'm a living corpse," Draculaura laughed. "Everything of me is cold until someone touches me."

Cleo shook her head. We took a collective deep breath and led our friend out of her hideaway. She clutched my arm and Clawdeen's as she walked until she met her father. Her arms slipped around his waist and a few tears traced down her face, thankfully not full of mascara. He held her tightly, crushing her lovely princess gown against his debonair suit. They looked like each other today. "Are you ready?" he whispered to her.

I glanced to Clawdeen and smiled, "Let's go, before she cries."

She shot me a look, but we left her alone to her father. Clawd stood at the altar, their guests still mingling in their seats. Our family was among those in the front, and as Clawdeen stepped up, I glanced behind the groom to see who I'd have to walk down the isle with on the way back, rolling my eyes at the result. "You better not pull anything cute, Moon."

Romulus just smiled, "With your husband in the audience? Nah."

I smiled more than I had smiled in a very long time. Clawdeen glanced to me, dropping her hand from her little bouquet to link her fingers with mine. I took them gratefully. "Thank you for being such a great friend to her."

She shook her head, "Thank you for doing what I can't. She needs you too."

Frankie sobbed. It sent a jolt through my shoulder. "Sorry," she whispered. I heard Jackson laugh anyway, and I shot him a look.

Before Draculaura emerged, there was a moment of silence that I could only describe as golden. The sun was descending from the heavens, bathing the leaves around us in their shimmering hues. I could only see faint, puffy clouds in the distance, and my soul swelled. The flowers were in full bloom, my sunscreen soaked skin managed the influx of Vitamin D well, and for the first time in months, I closed my eyes and believed that the sun were kissing me as well. The tinkling of piano, played with the most love possible from Operetta's father Erik, made me open my eyes.  
Draculaura was the most beautiful thing in the world beside her father. A princess, tucked in the arm of a king. He held her up, and she was crying before she even reached Clawd's side. Still, the elder vampire took his daughter's hand and placed it gently on top of her fiancee's. I noticed the elders of either clan glancing to each other. Draculaura's uncle was bawling too. Clawd brushed the tears from his fiancee's face while their words were given. I paid attention to nothing but them. They were the most beautiful thing in all the world in that moment, as he slipped her ring on her finger and she slipped his onto his. Their murmured, tearful whispers of their vows, the devotion in their voices, the adoration in their eyes reminded me of my younger self. I could imagine this young couple with their brand-new first baby. I could imagine those tears of pride vividly, a joy that would rival this one for all of us. And I clutched Clawdeen Wolf's hand, and I tried not to cry.

"I now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the bride."

They didn't wait to be told. He kissed her as if he had never kissed her before and would never kiss her again. He kissed her the way all women wanted to be kissed. I sobbed out loud and tucked my flowers in my arm to cheer for them. Clawdeen threw back her head in a howl, and Frankie sparked with blush. Our celebration put their guests on their feet, and a thunderous cheer flowed from our friends. It filled the room, it filled the air, it tinkled up to Heaven and it coated all of Salem and the world in its volume.

We were all, for the first time, united.


	36. Chapter Thirty-Six

_Chapter Thirty-Six_

The sun had set on joyful goodbyes and tearful reunions. It was potentially the first time in my life that I felt as if the conclusion to my night was satisfying. Spirits were high as we returned home. The boys went up to pack up and leave for Devein manor back in Ireland, and Vinnie and Natasha had detoured to one of the houses in town up for sale, where they hoped to move with Aleksi and Charlie. Zofie, thoroughly exhausted from celebrating, had slept in the car on the way home. Rain had stared out the window much as I had at her age, enveloped in girlish thoughts. As soon as we were home and settled in, I headed for my room, laid across my bed, and wept.

He found me there not long after I'd begun, my breath catching in my throat as it slithered to my lungs past the waterfall of tears. It was a pleasant agony ripping through my chest, a cleansing of my soul that I had wished for during the entire past seven years. Bram loosened his tie and sunk into bed with me, his arms wrapping tightly around my torso to hold me together much as he had when I had experienced the first wave of grief back then. Our fingers linked and remained that way, clutching each other as if we were set to be cast in stone. The tender brush of his thumbs across the backs of my fingers drew my breath to calm. Somehow the sensation of tears in my eyes didn't subside, even as he soothed my sobbing.

"Should I make some tea?" he murmured against the back of my neck.

I shook my head and raised his hands to my lips. I kissed them over and over, worshipping the man I loved even though he'd never asked. He held me and indulged me for a moment before scooping me up, turning my body to his and kissing me warmly. He sunk back against the mattress with me, his arms ensnaring my torso to press me so close to him that I could breathe only him in. My fingers tangled in his hair and pressed our faces together. I wished that we could become one solid being.

"Why are you crying?" he whispered. He brushed my cheeks with his fingers, catching the tears that fell from my eyes. I kissed his fingers reverently. He tried to draw away, but I pulled him closer. I needed him closer. I didn't need to voice the thoughts to have them fulfilled; his arms wrapped tightly, lovingly around my body and he caressed my hair. He wound the ends of the locks gently into curls and released them, his breaths fanning my skin slowly. His face pressed into my neck, allowing me to caress his soft, golden hair. We clutched each other for a very long time, my heart thrumming against my ribs with a mixture of raw emotions. I felt as if the sun had risen and set every day for centuries to lead me here. When I had calmed, he lifted his head and kissed the remainder of my tears from my cheeks.

"Do you know how much I love you?" I whispered.

"I do," he replied. "As much as I love you."

My breath slowly calmed. His fingers ran tenderly down my neck, easing my body up from the pillows with the gentlest of touches. I curled into him, taking deep breaths of the scent of his skin and his lightly cologne-scented clothes. I kissed his tender pulse and traced my fingers over his jaw. "At the rehearsal the other night...I trusted you, even when you weren't in control."

"I nearly killed you," he whispered.

I shook my head. "You didn't. I knew you couldn't."

He exhaled slowly and gently withdrew himself from my grip. He shed his tie and began working on the buttons of his shirt, but as I began slipping away my dress, he turned. I sighed, "I hope you know I'm not holding this against you. I never could."

"I could," he muttered. He probably hadn't intended for me to hear. I sighed and gently grasped his elbow as he shed his shirt. He glanced to me, allowing me to guide his hand to my back. Very gently, he tugged down the zipper, but hardly moved beyond that. His eyes pled for me to understand, they were full of self-doubt and concern, something I had never seen from him in all of our eleven years. I caught his fingers and pressed them to my lips before he could fully let them fall, and in silence, went to the bathroom to change.

I cleaned myself up, removed my makeup and dressed in my pajamas. I was too tired for a long bath, especially not if he wasn't going to join me. I emerged to find him already in bed, tucked partially under the covers. I went around to the other side and slid in beside him. He wrapped his arm gently around me, tucking my body against his. "I'm sorry," he murmured, "I just can't...not when I'm afraid of hurting you."

I yawned and nodded against his chest, "I know, my love. I understand."

To be completely honest, I didn't. He hadn't been in control of his own actions, he of all people should've understood that I wouldn't have held it against him. Yet I understood at the same time; he had fought so hard against the thing controlling him, and even being forced to witness was still enough to know that his own hands had nearly caused the end of one of his two most precious things. I traced my fingers over his chest while we lay in bed. My eyes eventually closed, but no sleep seemed to come for either of us. At last, he gently caught my hand and flattened it to his chest.

"Why didn't you protect yourself?" he whispered.

"Because I wasn't going to hurt you," I whispered back. "We may have conflicting viewpoints on what love is, but if I didn't have to hurt you, I wasn't going to."

"And you would've let that thing kill you?" he murmured.

I shook my head against his chest. "It wasn't going to kill me. It didn't want me dead, or else it would've done it quickly."

He sighed. My eyes opened and lifted to his face. I watched the corners of his eyes grow damp, and I traced my thumb in the bruised shadows beneath them. He kissed my palm softly, holding it there to his skin as I had held his to mine. "I know. God, I know. And you would've let me do that to you. That was a horrible thing, and it was going to hurt you. It wasn't going to treat you like I did, and you were just going to let it."

I blinked, trying to avoid my eyes widening in surprise. His opened, full of an agony that seemed limitless. "I don't know what I'd have wanted to see more. But the thought of you bleeding while it defiled you, it feeding while you squirmed and...and cried...Gory, I couldn't live with that. You wouldn't have survived that."

I released a deep, slow breath to keep my composure. My heart throbbed deeply for the both of us. I pressed my lips tenderly to his and promised myself that I could fix that pain. Our noses brushed as I curled more closely against him.

"I know you," I whispered against his skin. "If eleven years doesn't make me know you, then I never will. I promise, you would never hurt me. It's not that I want this for myself, I want you to never feel this way again. I've never doubted you."

"Not even then?" he murmured.

"Especially not then."

He cupped my face and very gently pressed his lips to mine. The sorrow in his eyes had subsided just a bit, giving way to a kind of calm that made my pulse settle. He caressed my hair behind my ears and held my face so warmly, full of such open adoration that I felt as if we were about to embark on an adventure with our old friends. I pressed my hand to his chest, the steady throb enough to set my own breaths to. "I have faith in you, Bram."

He seemed very tired as he allowed me to lay against him. My arm linked around his shoulders and my hand tucked gently under his neck. "I'm just so afraid," he murmured, "that I would touch you and it would cause you pain."

His fingers brushed along my spine, I could feel them through the soft cotton of my pajamas. I lowered my chin to his shoulder before letting my head fully drape to the side. "You aren't causing me pain now," I murmured. "The only thing that's painful is being without you. When we're apart, it's terrifying. I worry about you constantly, but that's what being married to you is like." I closed my eyes and sighed. "If only you understand how little I worried for myself when I had you to worry for."

He yawned and his fingers strayed through my hair. "I suppose we'll both have to learn not to worry about each other."

I tucked my head under his chin wordlessly. I couldn't promise him that, but I could try to keep his concern under control. His fingers settled against my neck, and with a gentle huff of warm breath against my hair, he wrapped me up in his arms like a teddy bear and fell quickly asleep.


	37. Chapter Thirty-Seven

_Chapter Thirty-Seven_

After we dropped off Sean and the boys at the airport, we headed into Portland to undergo serious retail therapy. Zofie was back at the house with Vinnie and Natasha for responsible guardians and Rain for a replacement. It was a perfect afternoon, at least in my mind. Good music was on the radio, the cloudy sky only padded the sun to give us a greater freedom of movement, and for the first time since the incident, Bram seemed back to himself. It was hard to believe that I had been so deeply into my own problems before. I could only imagine how hard all of this had been on him.

It was a joke parking in the city, but we managed to find a place along a major shopping strip. I didn't give him a chance to be chivalrous as he parked. The sidewalks on a Tuesday at noon were just as full as they would be on a Saturday. He locked the car with a flash of the lights and strode up to me, linking his fingers with mine and placing a light kiss to my lips. "I was thinking...we ought to celebrate. Sean's gone now, so Rainy could babysit for an evening..."

I beamed. Just the idea of going out for a proper dinner, he and I and no one else, made my day. I squeezed his hand, "I would love to."

He squeezed my hand with a light, devious smile. "I would love nothing more than a night of indulging you. I've been rather lacking in my marital duties, and I apologize for that. But...you're soon to be a celebrated author. It's time I take my every opportunity with you before everyone else gets to bask in your glory."

I blushed, "_Oh._"

"Oh?" he teased, "Of course I'll take you out and romance you first, I haven't entirely lost my edge. I just thought you'd be intrigued with what I had in mind."

I tried not to blush and smile too widely. My fingers seemed hypersensitive as they grazed his. Teenage glee was rising in my chest, making it very difficult to focus. He seemed to count on that, looping his arm around me and guiding me where he wanted to go before I could gather myself long enough to focus on anything. He kissed my cheek lightly, "And I hope you know I loved that leather jacket you girls got me."

I didn't have the breath yet to laugh. He took it away whether he intended to or not. I watched him mull around and pick out things for himself. He met my eyes every so often, breaking into a wicked little smile that stole my breath away again. All this time we had been settled together had robbed the fierceness from his disposition, but it seemed that since the incident, it had returned just as it had been. I would've been lying to say it wasn't one of the most easy aspects of him to fall in love with.

I trailed him around like a puppy. He didn't give me much to do but admire and as much as I enjoyed that, I couldn't help but feel as if he were treating me delicately in preparation to do just the opposite. By the time we went to the next place, we were holding each others' hands and smirking at each other like teenagers.

"Do you remember when I punched out Jacob?" he asked errantly while I admired designer dresses. I froze in place and glanced over my shoulder to him, "Vividly."

He smirked like the Cheshire cat and leaned on the end of the rack. As much of a snob as I would've liked to be and pass up anything that anyone else could wear, I actually enjoyed shopping for myself. He reached out and toyed with the end of my hair as I lifted a side-gathered crimson dress with a sweetheart neckline and thin, easily draped aside straps. I held it up to myself, giving him the opportunity to appraise it. The delicious smirk that crossed his face made my blood sing. I didn't want to say that it had been a long time since he looked at me with that kind of hunger, but it felt like it had been. It felt like everything I'd been robbed of in the past few years had been returned to me.

I didn't need him to confirm that I was getting it, though. I draped it gently over my arm and continued on. We repeated the process for several more things before I moved on to accessories and he wandered off at the mention of more jewelry. Before I could round out with perfumes and makeup, though, he returned and draped some very delicate and very familiar pieces of satin and lace over my arm. I could've gone red if I had the capacity.

"Oh don't be modest," he teased, "I've just been behaving myself."

I gave him a look, but the process repeated itself over the next several stores. He would get things, I would get things, and he would tease me not to be modest with things he wanted me to get. The more he teased, the younger I felt. It was a strange sensation, like I'd broken out of a layer of ice and birthed myself into somewhere very warm. By the time we were ready to go home, I got the feeling we wouldn't leave Salem tonight, if we even left the house.

There were periods in life when the lust for living died. After a long spur of travel or a large dose of adventure, it became commonplace to fade into some kind of nine-to-five life dotted with particularly well-executed children's movies and minor travels. It seemed like just the opposite. It was travel that had begun this transition into the pallid life of young suburban parents and it was the emergence from an adventure that broke us from it.

I thought on the comparison of my life when we had met to now while we arrived home. Rain grabbed the door to let us in, her eyes widening as she saw the amount of things we managed to obtain for ourselves in such a small amount of time. I separated a few bags from my lot and brought them to the girls. "Rainy," I kissed her forehead, "and my Zofie."

Our daughter put her movie on pause, leaving me to wonder if she was watching talking cereal pieces, and moved closer in interest. I pulled out a stuffed puppy and set it on her lap. Sammy raised his head at it, but lowered it quickly in disinterest. She smiled, her hand resting on its head as I took out each little outfit and showed her them. She seemed rather disinterested with the clothes, instead she glanced over to her cousin and watched Rain open up her bag. She beamed, taking out a few shirts to look at and different styles of jeans. Her eyes raised and she shot Bram an accusatory glare, "You stole my MP3."

"Gory did the guesswork," he replied. "She's the genius behind the female music taste."

I laughed, "I just got the shirts with the good-looking men on them."

Rain laughed, her delight more interesting than clothes for all of us. Zofie got up and wandered over, appraising the shirts and the jeans and moving on to the accessories with professional admiration that quickly turned into childish glee. She lifted up Rain's studded bracelet and clasped it on her own wrist. She admired the long, gothic pendants and the makeup palates and turned to her cousin with bright eyes, "Teach me how to do it?"

Rain glanced to me. "No eyeliner or mascara, and no cutting or dying her hair without permission."

My daughter beamed and immediately turned her hair out to her cousin, "I did have purple streaks, but they washed out."

Rain touched her hair and ran her fingers slowly through it. "Y' look like you'd be a pastel goth, Zo."

My daughter rolled her eyes, "I never get to pick out my own clothes."

"You're six," Bram said with a laugh. Zofie glanced at him and rose a brow, "So?"

I tried not to laugh. "Alright, next time you can pick out whatever you like. Within limits."

"There's not much I can fit in," Zofie replied, "There's not much you can protest."

"My god, Gory, she's you," Bram teased. I pushed his shoulder in teasing. As Rain boosted her little cousin onto her lap and began showing her jewelry and her makeup and explaining to her things that I had anticipated waiting on until she had at least hit her double digits, I came to the realization that she was indeed a capable guardian. She wasn't going to give Zofie the children's version either, or lie to her to appease us.

"Why don't you girls go play around in your makeup?" I murmured. "And if you find something you like, take pictures."

Zofie beamed, "Can I?!"

"You can," I replied. Bram rolled his eyes but didn't exert his veto. He understood that we would have to pick and choose our battles in her life, and her self-expression would not be one of them. Zofie hopped off Rain's lap and gathered her stuff in a bag before giving me a kiss and moving to her father to do the same. Bram patted my knee and sighed, "I'll sort things for laundry, then."

I nodded and rose. The girls slipped off upstairs and I joined him, bringing clothes into the laundry room and separating them by color. Reds in one pile, darks in one and lights in the other.

Bram turned the stereo on very low, leaving it to trickle through the lower level. I smirked and hummed along to the hard rock song that we danced to at the integration of the schools. Holt Hyde's music taste had always been admirable, especially since he had only needed to take one look at me to understand my tastes.

"May I have this dance?" Bram teased from behind me, trailing his fingers over my spine. I looked down at the half-unpacked bag and shrugged. The dryer wasn't free yet anyway, no point in putting on something else...  
He guided me out onto the hardwood floor of my former dance room and caught my hand. Music was a very liberating thing. I shook out my hair a bit and danced against him like I had when we were still learning how to live. He grasped my hips and pulled my back to his chest. I trailed my fingers over his jaw as he brushed aside my hair. The advances we made on each other in this room had been so gentle before, and I loved that he took dominance again. Something wild burned in the center of my being. It was wild enough to be real, true and instinctual. It was at the core of every single living thing, and as his fangs grazed my neck, I felt it come alive again.

He traced his fangs over my neck at Belfry Prep. Those times when we were in such a frenzy before class, so worked up for each other that we didn't have time to be gentle with each other or worry about much. Harsh bites. Bruises left on each other's skin. The trailing of my nails down his shirt, pressing into his skin so hard they left marks. We both felt renewed like this. We both felt free. I realized then, we had eternal youth. It wasn't about feeling young, it was about feeling liberated.  
He spun me around quickly and pressed me into the covered mirrors on the wall. My lips parted with the slow exhale of breath passing my lips. It seemed as if our exhales released the air from between us. With familiar urgency, he nestled against me and placed hungry kisses on my neck. I pressed my lips together, arching instinctively into his chest. His hands ran over my sides, slipping around my back and under me to boost my body against his. His fangs focused at my pulse, teasing the thrumming beat deliciously slowly. "Remember what this was like?" he murmured against my skin.

"I do," I breathed. I remembered raw passion very well. It was customary for him to worship me like a deity, treat me like a treasure. Every so often, though, I wanted him to make me remember when I hadn't been that golden egg in his eyes, when we were naive enough to think we could live forever.

"Do you want me to lock the door?" he murmured in my ear before lightly nibbling on the lobe. I squirmed against him, a gasp of pleasure-pain passing my lips as his teeth trailed up to the tip of the cartilage and pressed down until it ached. I nodded.

He moved away, allowing me to sink down against the wall. I righted my skirt, feeling very flushed and proper for a moment, but as soon as the lock clicked shut, I threw caution to the wind. He hesitated in returning, watching me with that worship in his eyes as if he were afraid of hurting me. Instead of reassuring him, I decided to show him. I crossed the room to him and linked my arms around his neck. His eyelids lowered slightly, a twitch of a smile on his lips, and I pressed my mouth to his.

That kiss began like any other kiss, intimate and slow, but it bloomed into the devotion and desire that he stirred in me. His tongue parted my lips very gently, teasing my own with a little brush. I melted into his arms, nibbling his lower lip with my fangs.

We dropped onto the floor right there, his weight fully on top of me, kissing me like we had all the time in the world to indulge in each other. He'd leave me a thoroughly adored mess, likely crying in happiness. The very idea made me clutch his shoulders a little tighter and shift against him. I wanted to be closer. If there was any possible way for us to be any closer, I wanted it.

He withdrew very gently, still kissing and biting my lower lip teasingly, before he sunk his fangs into my throat and left me breathless.

...

His belt draped against the headboard, long forgotten. His head rested on my chest, listening to each deep, satisfied breath. We could hear the faint sounds of music from Rain's room and our giggling girls. His fingers traced my side and he pressed another soft kiss to my skin.  
I draped my arms over his shoulders and ran my fingers slowly through his hair. My wrists were aching, rings of dark bruises around my skin that would heal by morning. I smiled and locked my fingers in his locks, lifting my head slightly to kiss his head as it rested against me. He released a soft sound of approval and gave my body a gentle squeeze, "Sorry if I hurt you."

"Don't be," I practically purred. "It was amazing."

There were two kinds of pain in the world, the pain other people caused me and the pain he caused me. Other peopled shied away from physical pain. They'd rather hurt me and everyone else emotionally. They'd rather kill the trust before they violated it. Bram wouldn't dare hurt me emotionally. I knew the man I loved, and I knew that he physically treasured me too much. Those frustrations we could work out on each other, not so passively and yet far from harsh. Girls like Draculaura would cry if their men went this far, but to someone who had inflicted her own fair share of pain, I knew what it was. There was an unbelievable amount of trust in being with someone who wouldn't judge the need to conquer each other. Who would fight you and give in to you, and be there for you afterward. He regretted being rough. I reveled in it.

I traced my fingers through his hair and kissed him reassuringly, over and over again. He had a kinder soul than mine, yet I knew he loved inflicting someone else's pain as much as I did. It was another basic instinct. We were all capable of good and evil, and sometimes black and white became a very strange shade of gray. I pressed his face into my collarbone in a soft little squeeze and punctuated my caresses with another soft kiss. He sighed and finally shifted away from me, propping up on his side as if he'd just awoken from a nap. I didn't doubt that in the slightest. He looked me over and smiled lightly, "Maybe I am underestimating you."

I tried not to chuckle as I turned and curled into his chest, "You know you are."

He laughed and very gently kissed the top of my head. "I love you."

I kissed his chest. "I love you too."


	38. Chapter Thirty-Eight

_Chapter Thirty-Eight_

They always talked about new perspectives even though every time I tried to give them mine it got brushed off. They never treated me like I was too young to understand, just that I was too young to know. Sometimes I thought I was, but I knew at the same time that I was smarter than the other kids my age. Aleksi wasn't the brightest bulb in the pack, but he would do for a friend. He had grown dependent on my company and I suppose I had on his, but I had to admit, I missed the days where my parents and I interacted freely like Louis and Lestat. I was their Claudia; I had always been their Claudia. As deeply as my mother loved me, she treated me like a child.

I laid in Rain's bed and stared at the posters she had put up on the walls of the actors that played them and I understood the bond between a girl and her father that transcended a mother's understanding.

Rain picked the purple room. It was the room I had slept in rather commonly when no one had lived in it. She left up the wall sconces and pushed back the curtains so their white underbellies let some light in. She covered the mirror of the vanity in pictures layered upon each other with tape until the lack of image behind it was blocked out. I recognized many of the men. Gatsby, from all three of my mother's DVDs, Prince Arthur, Percy Jackson, Captain America. Rain liked the clean-cut schoolboys. She considered them to be better than her, and she quoted every novel I had ever read as if she were ripping the memories of words from my mind. I loved watching her get ready. I loved gazing at her band posters and their splashes of color and darkness that made them feel like artistic, vintage photographs. She had lined the vanity in well-beaten books and cracked displays of media. Her bathroom was a royal mess if one had ever existed in the house, but it was organized in a way only she understood. Makeup, and lots of it, lined the counter.

Even though my parents said against it, she painted my eyelashes with mascara and lined their edges in pink. She took a picture on her phone and let me see. She called me the most intelligent child she'd ever met, and I knew that while she was also telling me the truth, she was right.

She had pictures of her siblings the way other girls had pictures of their friends. We stayed up late together and she told me all the stories of how she worked in a grocery store back in Dublin. She lived in the city's heart with her five brothers, and she was the only girl. They had two dogs and their parents pushed them to do well so they could get scholarships and leave the house, because apparently they had never recovered financially between the potato famine and the Depression.

I loved her clothes. While she watched all the movies she wanted, I went through her closet. I couldn't fit into her pants but I could fit into her shirts, even though at times they felt huge. She kept a large shoe box of beaten up comics on her shelf under her special occasion shoes, the ones my mom had bought her. They were purple and covered in black lace.

Aleksi was my best friend, but I had a special relationship with Rain. If I was going to be Elizabeth Bathory, she was my aunt Klara who people would proclaim a witch. The stories differed so much between the accepted one and the one that seemed to fit my mother best. I stayed with her through as much of the day as I could, no matter what incidences we caused or trouble she stirred. There were only two times of the day in which I found myself without her companionship; when she was out, or when she slept.

Right now, she slept. And I was left to tend to Aleksi's amusement like a good young hostess. My parents had no idea the amount of annoyance I dealt with in putting up with a boy his age.

He sat on my floor with the frog in a jar, tapping on the glass as if it would make him do some trick. He was in a jar with holes in the lid, we hadn't the time to find him a proper tank yet. He croaked, but made no attempt to entertain him. I laid in my bed with my current read, _Paper Towns,_ and I stroked Sabbath's back as she laid on my lap.

He rose and set the jar on the shelf-topped dresser before coming over to me. I shielded Sabbath's tail just in case he wanted to try something mean. He tried to move my hand anyway and I gave him a good swat with my book that made him draw back and cry out. His skin was still very pink from where the sunscreen hadn't helped him outside, and all across one arm and part of his upper chest still showed as pink to me.

"Ow," he protested. I folded over the corner of my page and looked at him, as if daring him to tell me why I cared. "Why'd ya have t' play rough?" he persisted.

"I'm not playing. If you tug her tail, it's animal cruelty. She'll scratch you, you'll hit her, I'll have to hit you even harder...next thing you know, I'll hurt you something fierce and it'll be your fault."

He looked at me like he didn't understand. His parents obviously belittled him. He tugged my arm then, trying to pull me out of bed, "Come on, let's go exploring."

"I swear to God, Aleksi!" I snapped, "Go do something on your own for a change!"

He looked like he was going to cry, but he let go. He stormed off like a little brat and probably intended to go crying to his mother. I laid and read until Sabbath got tired of cuddling. She hopped up and ran off to my parents' bedroom and I forced myself up to get a little movement in before I fell asleep. I pulled on my shoes and hat, leaving them unbuckled and untied, and went outside to find Aleksi. It was daylight still, even in the evening hours. I heard my mother in the den while the light streaked in from the kitchen. She must've been on with Aunt Laura, because her tone was bright and she was discussing her book.

I went out into the sun and crossed the shimmering, blinding lawn to the edge of the forest where Aleksi sat nestled in a mossy cove between a log and the damp trunk of a tree. His sunburn looked even more scorched and I couldn't help myself from giggling as I paused beside him to buckle my shoes before the silver got damp and stared tarnishing. He glared at me and poked a passing beetle. "You're mean to me, Zofie."

"I know," I replied. I put my hand on his head and used him for leverage to climb onto the log and wander across. A line of ants marched a path between my feet and I waited until the end to start stomping on them.

He got up and pushed me off. I screamed and tumbled into the leaves. Something sharp swiped my arm and I got up quickly before I could be dirtied any further. It was just a scrape from bark, but it burned like sunlight. I glared at him over the top of the log and he looked smug. I rubbed my arm and walked away. He followed like I expected him to.

He tried to stay in my shadow through the sun as I crossed back to the outwardly built wing of house that might've seemed awkward in design, but provided a nice cove of protection from the outer sun. We crouched by the taller grasses surrounding the little fountain where we'd found my frog and I dipped my hands in the cool water. He looked at me with sorrow, but I dabbed my hands across his scalded arm to keep him from crying.

He reached out and undid the bow under my chin. I scowled. He smiled. "You're very pretty."

"I'll dunk you in the swamp, you little worm," I replied.

He smiled. He was such a little monster. I flicked him in the face with water, only prompting him to open his mouth to receive more. I was tempted to stick a wild mushroom in it, but some were poisonous and although he annoyed me to no end, I didn't want to kill him. I cupped my hands and poured the water on his shirt, and he melted with the kind of sigh that made me know he was going to be badly burnt. I took his lighter hand in both of mine and pulled him to his feet, "How do you feel?"

"How do I feel?" he repeated as I led him in the gate.

"Yes, stupid, how do you feel? Are you dizzy? Will you puke?"

He seemed to have to think about it for a minute before shaking his head, "I'm okay."

So sopping wet, he followed me in. His face was flecked in drops of water, his shirt soaked and arm coated in beading water. I grabbed my step stool out from under the sink and gestured for him to get on it. He did, but stood there looking at me like I had all the answers.

"Well put something on it," I said, "Don't just stand there or you'll get all peel-y."

He looked down at his arm, and maybe it was the fact that his cheek still had a minor cut from where I'd hit him with my book, or my rough treatment had finally mirrored his own, but he started crying. The one thing I had tried to avoid all day had finally happened, and I threw up my hands so fast I knocked off my hat in exasperation. "Aleksi!" I snapped, "Pull it together!"

He cradled his red arm to his body and sobbed until I noticed it was blistering. Something strange boiled up in my chest and I felt sick. I screamed for my mother.

She came tearing in like a bat out of hell and went to me before focusing on Aleksi. Immediately, she scooped him up and began scolding him. "Dammit Aleksi! You can't go out without sunscreen! Oh god, look at you! You're lucky you didn't burn to ash!"

He was a sobbing, snotty mess while she tried to soothe the burning. My eyes stung and I grabbed a roll of paper towels and jammed them into his hands. The blisters swelled under the water and he wailed. My mother gently squeezed the water out and tried to rinse them clean, but they transitioned from filling to swelling, and Aleksi was shrieking soon enough. His mother joined us in a flurry of a multicolored skirt.

"I think we need to take him to the hospital," my mother said. "I've never seen burns this bad on someone his age."

"I'm gonna die!" he wailed and grabbed for me, "I'm gonna go to ash! I'm gonna die!"

"Shush, Alek, you're not going to die," Natasha said gently. I felt sick though. He looked so red. He looked so wrong. He turned around and pulled back his arm to puke just like I thought he would, and from the sight of my mother's face I knew it was bad.

I didn't realize I had started crying until the wet rolled down my neck. I heard his stomach heaving and my mother called for Uncle Vinnie. Aleksi looked so sick. He drew back for a minute to gasp like a fish, and I saw how white his face was where it wasn't red. If it was heat or exertion, I didn't know, but the fact that he kept puking made me cry a little harder. If it was anyone else, I might've run out of the room to save myself the misery, but Aleksi needed me. I picked up my hat and reached out to hold his very pale hand, but he was too busy puking to notice.

Vinnie ran in from the garage with my father following a few steps behind. He picked me up and immediately began looking me over for burns of my own. I wound my arms around his neck and tried not to look, but the fact that Uncle Vinnie pulled out his phone instead of asking what had happened made me feel sick inside.

"Is he going to die?" I whispered into my father's neck. My stomach felt turbulent.

He carried me out of the room, his large palm running soothingly up and down my back. It took a moment for the feeling of tightness in my center to release, but it did. I laid against him with my fingers wrapped in his red cotton shirt.

"No, sweetheart. Aleksi's very sick from the sun, but he'll be alright. Doctor Stein deals with vampires like this all the time." He sunk into the sofa in the den, and I didn't move. His arms moved from supporting me to cradling me and I heard him put on CNN. I laid on him, listening to his heartbeat to forget what I had seen. I knew about disease. They explained to me that when we went out in the sun, we had to be covered, or else we would get very red and blister and our skin would feel as if it were on fire. I knew all the effects of what could happen and none of them were good, but I trusted him. I trusted him until I heard Aunt Natasha yelling at Uncle Vinnie.

"Shh," he whispered to me as he felt me tense. "Yelling is half their marriage."

They yelled the way my parents kissed. I took deep breaths and tried to understand. There was a very distant siren getting closer, and my father cupped his hands over my ears. I heard him tell me through them that it was alright and he shifted my head to his shoulder. He put on Jack the Giant Slayer and even though it was cruel to our kind, I listened. I closed my eyes against his shoulder and focused my listening to turn away the sounds of Aunt Natasha yelling and Uncle Vinnie responding.

"Whatever happened, it's not your fault," he murmured into my ear before kissing my head. His fingers ran through my hair very calmly, and if I believed a word my father told me, I would've thought it was alright. But behind the sounds of grunting giants, I heard Aleksi cry. He wasn't retching any longer, just crying in a tone that betrayed all the misery and agony of a burning boy.

I grabbed my father's collar so tightly that he knew, and he folded me up in his arms and pressed my face into his neck. His pulse surrounded me. I stopped listening long enough to breathe.


	39. Chapter Thirty-Nine

_Chapter Thirty-Nine  
A/N- if I haven't made word count today, I'm sorry. I woke up ill today and it's been a struggle to do anything this evening._

Our fingers laced together as we wandered side by side across the yard.  
"We ought to go to Aspen," Bram murmured as he sat on the edge of the former fountain-turned-fish pond. I dipped my fingers into the unfiltered water and brushed my fingers along the spine of one of the koi. I gazed into the tinted water, shocked at its clarity. How many years did it take ecological balance to form? My eyes lifted to his face, "I'm very afraid of losing you."

His brows rose at the voicing of the sentiment and he moved a bit closer. "Gory...darling, you're not going to lose me. We've come this far." He took my hand in his and caressed my knuckles as if it would help. "What's got you worried? The promise of fame?"

I rose and extended my hands. He took them, allowing me to slip his arm around my body while I ducked into his grasp and perched myself on his lap. He looked me over and his eyes became very tender and guarded. "That," I whispered. His eyes lifted from me to meet mine. The guarded look slipped almost instantly. He was incredibly bad at keeping his thoughts from me, and the raw terror and agony in his eyes hurt my soul. I released his hands and cupped his gorgeous face in my hands.

"I am so sorry," I whispered to him. "Whatever I did...I'm sorry."

He shook his head, a tiny smile on his beautiful mouth. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I can't forget what I've done, even if I should." I tried to respond, but he simply wound his arms a bit tighter around me and placed a tender kiss on my lips, "It's alright. I know. You tell me it isn't my fault, but...to me it is."

"You're being very silly then," I replied. My arms wound warmly around his neck, forcing him to meet my eyes. His guard continued to slip until he sighed and squeezed my waist, letting the facade of strength crumble from his gaze. Our foreheads pressed together and my fingers caressed through his hair. Soft gold, almost as soft as Zofie's, felt like bliss under my fingertips. His eyelashes gave butterfly kisses to my cheeks as they lowered. I guided his head to my chest, allowing him to nestle there with his arms tight around me like a little boy. He attempted to brush his fingers soothingly over my spine, but all they accomplished was to set the tender rhythm to my returned caresses. He sighed as if he carried Atlas's weight.

"I don't know why you hold this against yourself," I murmured into his hair. I placed a soft kiss there, only shifting to press my cheek to his silken hair.

"Because I wasn't strong enough to stop it from hurting you," he murmured. "I know, you're a very resilient being, but I simply can't cope with the fact that I made a promise to you and I wasn't able to keep it."

"It didn't kill me," I murmured.

He lifted his face ever so slightly. The intensity with which his eyes met mine seemed almost forceful, though the tender way he cupped my sides was anything but. "I would not have let myself live with ending your life."

I traced my thumb softly over his lower lip, "That's a very selfish thought. What about Zofie?"

"She wouldn't look at me the same."

I rolled my eyes. "She does now." He knew, or he should've known, that absolutely nothing else mattered when it came to Zofie's love for him. She had seen him possessed, he seemed to have forgotten that, and she had never treated him a bit differently. She understood more than he would've liked to think she did, even if it was coated in her childish innocence. "She was more afraid of Aleksi's sun poisoning than she was of you."

He tugged me gently to my feet and slid his hands tenderly down my arms to release my hands from their clasp behind his neck. I scowled, but allowed him to. He kissed my knuckles tenderly before linking my arm with his and heading back toward the house. "I know. You girls are still the most important thing in the world to me. If anything happened to you..."

I shook my head. It seemed as if we'd had this conversation too many times before. He led me up to the door of the den and I caught him gently by the collar of his shirt and drew him in for a tender kiss, "Swashbuckling heroes beware, there's a more chivalrous man out for competition."

He chuckled softly and pressed his lips to mine. "I'm no Lone Ranger."

"Of course you are," I replied, "Dashing hero with amazing skill and the capacity to do what's right and necessary while listening to the wisdom of his equal and companion?"

"Ah," he murmured as he followed me in, "So you're Tanto."

"I'm certainly no damsel in distress." I made myself at home on the sofa and propped up my slipper clad feet on the edge of the coffee table. He locked up after us, drawing the curtains closed and knocked them off playfully as he came to join me. I giggled, propping them up on his lap in delight. He batted them aside only for me to move them higher onto his lap. He pulled up his legs until I was trapped playfully against him, our limbs somewhat laced. Zofie was passed out in the chair with the children's movie channel on the television, her little body wrapped in a nest of blankets. I could've fallen asleep there, but he had other ideas. He nudged my legs off his lap and motioned me to shift over. Beaming, I crawled over willingly and nestled into his chest. His arms wrapped around me and he pressed his lips to my hair. "She stole all of the blankets."

I shrugged. Why did I need one when I had him? He seemed to think the very same, shifting so we were comfortable together on our sofa. My fingers tangled in the front of his shirt, my head tucked comfortably under his chin and his fingers tracing slowly up and down my arms as if trying to memorize the sensation of my skin.

"Perhaps I am a beast and you are the beautiful girl sent to rescue me from my vanity," he murmured.

"If I haven't succeeded this far in, I'm never going to."

He laughed. His touch paused at my elbow, and for a very long time we laid against each other with complete intent to spend the night spooning on the sofa. I closed my eyes for a prolonged blink and returned my attention to the world during the obnoxiously extended commercials of late-night television. I rose gently, prying myself from his grip to scoop up Zofie from her blanket fort and carry her upstairs. The dimly lit hall was bathed in light. I smiled slightly and took her upstairs regardless.

Once Zofie was tucked in, I returned downstairs to find Vinnie having sunk into one of the main room's chairs and placed his head in his hands to sleep. Silently, I crossed the floor to him and nudged him gently. He awoke with a start, his head snapping up toward me as if he'd been electrocuted. I tried to smile, but it seemed weak in my groggy mind. He pushed himself up and wrapped his arms tightly around me. "Tash is staying with him overnight. He's gonna be okay."

I nodded against his shoulder, almost nodding _off_ against his shoulder. He let go after a long moment and pressed a soft kiss to my head, "I gotta go to bed. I just...thanks, Gory."

I didn't know what I could possibly say that might help ease his worry, so I said nothing. He trudged upstairs before I could even flash a smile his way. Left to my own devices, I headed back into the den and shut off the TV. The absence of sound stirred Bram a bit, just not enough to wake him. I nudged his side gently, urging him to stir a bit more. Half awake, he raised his heavy lids as best he could. I offered him my hands and tugged him very gently to his feet. He laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders with an almost intoxicated firmness. "I thought it was my job to take you off to bed."

"I wasn't the one who passed out during cartoons this time," I teased. Flicking off the light in passing, we wandered up the darkened stairs to our bedroom and proceeded to crawl into bed beside each other. I did some of my deepest thinking in bed, lord knew why. My bed, the shower and the kitchen seemed to be my places of greatest mental stimulation. His arm propped up the back of my neck, reminding me of days past in which I needed him to alleviate the aches that plagued my loosely-termed maturation. A more even displacement of curves, more like it. He got taller and his muscles stronger, I just got fat. Old age caught up to one of us, at least.

He turned to look at me as if he sensed my thoughts and brushed my hair out of my face. He stole my glasses off my face, reminding me that they were even there, and pressed himself against me. Firm, delicious muscle and the warm scent of his skin, it was as if he was trying to drive me into the kind of dreams only he could cause.

"You are so perfect," he breathed into my neck, "I'm sorry I'm so tender with you. I've just seen you at your most vulnerable...it's hard to come back from knowing that you're really more breakable than you seem to think you are."

I wound my arms around him and pressed him close. He gratefully changed our positions, using me for the pillow tonight instead of the other way around. My fingers traced his hair until his breathing had gone deep and even. It was only then that I replied in the softest tone I could've had, still being so tired. "I've been broken many times by many people, my love. At least I know when I'm broken by you, you put all the pieces back together."

It was the best explanation I had for my own actions in my lifetime. Every time my spirit had been beaten down, I got back up with a little less of myself than when I began. People say that the most damaged hardened to the world, but that wasn't the case. I wasn't hard to anyone, I had just lost a little more every time. Innocence, faith, trust, maybe a little hope. I was still blind enough to have my hope, and he made me feel naive enough to restore a measure of all of them. I fell asleep that night thinking about who I really trusted, what I even could consider love and where I'd lost all that vigor and excitement that people like Draculaura carried on their sleeves. I knew something was changing, that my world would be restored in time with him, but nature was off balance for a moment more.

If I had thought my father was a man to be prayed to, I might've done that. If I believed in prayer, I would've prayed for him and for forgiveness. Common people had dissuaded me this far; I would rather have been the damned than joined their ignorance. I closed my eyes under the thoughts of blind faith. As much as I dreamed and thought of the whispers of angels so common in the lives of men that seemed so far away from me, I couldn't deny entertaining the thought that I had two of my own. It was a simple thought in itself, proven by action and backed in bias.

Still, I would've liked to think that something, somewhere, knew and understood even more than me because the pieces of everything were just impossible to fit together otherwise.


	40. Chapter Forty

_Chapter Forty_

They were awake long before anyone else.  
He stared at her like she was the most interesting thing on the planet at the moment. He admired the fire colored curls tumbling over her shoulders, took note of the occasional splatter of freckles on her very white skin and smirked at her with the deviousness of a teenage boy. Words didn't need to be exchanged for intent to be conveyed, all it would've done was attempt to mask it.

Out of sheer desperation, Rain turned on the over-counter radio and lowered the volume. The early hours never played the music she enjoyed, but even country was better than listening to the silence and feeling the smirk directed at her back. Eggs were frying in the pan, coated in butter, grease and spices. She moved away to take a bowl of grated cheese from the counter, fully aware of her every step being watched by the curly-haired boy behind her.

"If you're gonna watch, at least make yourself useful," she said.

There was a ghost of a breeze while Charlie appeared at her side, leaning on the counter with a brow raised in silence. Her eyes lifted to meet his, questioning to interest. She nodded toward the refrigerator, "Zofie has chocolate milk. Put four cups of water in the coffee maker and two and a half scoops of the Three Region blend, it's in the bag with the mermaid on it, into the filter. Put it on 'brew now' and wait until it's bubbling incessantly to turn it off. Gory takes hers with two tablespoons of cream and two sugars and Bram takes blood and sugar alone. Spike them both with a blood bag, divide it half and half. Zo doesn't like blood in the morning, she has hers with lunch."

Charlie rose a brow, but crossed the room to aid her in preparing breakfast anyway. "Are you their guest or their help?"

She shot him a look, "I'm used to taking care of a big family. The least I can do is help."

He removed the chocolate milk and a blood bag from the refrigerator, holding them both up in surrender. "Hey, I was just asking. I know how it is. I've been living off and on with Ruth since I came back from Canada, she's the one intent on making me do something to earn my keep. Gory doesn't seem like the type."

She lowered the heat to ensure the cheese melted without becoming liquefied. Taking the gently-coated lumps of egg and scraping them onto their respective plates directly from the scalding skillet, she hesitated to respond. "She's not. She does quite a bit for me. Sometimes I don't have enough to do in the day."

He set out the cups and went about filling them to the extent of her orders, nodding briefly as their paths crossed in his return to the coffee maker, "It's really kind of nice when you think about it. I'm sure you're used to keeping busy, but living out here has to be a lot better than living down in suburbia. You can go horseback riding or whatever you really want. Nobody's going to stop you and tell you that you have to sweep the porch or pick up after the dog or something."

Rain rose a brow, "Pick up after the dog?"

"Again, you're incredibly lucky to live up here." The little smile that crossed his face caught her eye, bringing one of her own to her lips. "You have dimples," she observed with sparkling eyes. He shrugged, embarrassed at being caught.  
Like a waitress, she set down the skillet to pick up the plates in a line along her arms. She set every place except two with the same breakfast. Before she had time to turn back and amend her orders to include Vinnie, he flashed her a more contained smile, "I know. Vinnie gets coffee because they don't want him drinking early. We've practically known each other since grade school, I've got it."

Something in her eyes had been very businesslike until he revealed the extent of his own knowledge. She leaned on the chairs and stared at him with a note of admiration, "That long?"

He clicked the respective button to brew coffee and turned back to her. Although they had a distance between them, he leaned on the counter as if they were almost across the table from each other. "We went to Belfry Prep together. Gory got me out of there with Ruth before the whole wolf incident went down. She thought I was too young for it. Then Natasha made sure I stayed out of everything that went on here. I didn't see her until her wedding after they made me leave for Canada with them."

"And before that?" she asked, crossing the room until they were on either side of the counter and staring at each other with renewed interest.

"Before that Vinnie was my best friend. He and I got to Belfry around the same time. When we met Gory, Bram was still trying to get her out of her shell. He was a narcissistic prat and she was like a suicidal snapping turtle. They were perfect for each other right off." As she smiled, he grinned, "I gotta admit, I don't think anybody could stand them at first. She made him less of an ass and he made her kind of human, then we started hanging out together."

She nodded, her attempts at giggling failing as she grinned. "That sounds like Bram."

"So what was he like in Ireland? Nobody seems to talk about it much."

She pulled up a chair and motioned for him to join her, even though with the coffee on, one of them would have to rise soon enough. He took the seat beside her and rested his chin in his palm. She traced a glossy black nail over the granite countertop, tracing the circle where condensation could've been if she had a drink. "Bram's been a bit of a handful all of his life. I love him to no end, and he me obviously, but he used to be such a..."

"Prat?" Charlie offered.

She laughed, "Prat and brat. He was a selfish little shit. Everything he wanted, he got. He used to tell me he was looking for that something that was missing. I didn't know what he could've possibly been missing; he lived in a castle and had an armada of absolutely everything. Horses, clothes, books...everything. He tried being like his father, but it just pissed people off. He ran away once, for three days back in eighteen fifty four. He told me he was going off to live an exciting life, with train heists and petty crimes, outrunning posses and pretending to be an American outlaw. He went all the way to Wales, almost got caught in a hunt and high-tailed it back home at the first sign of trouble."

He laughed, "That doesn't sound like him now."

"Oh of course not. He used to vow he'd live an adventure, but I don't think he wanted adventure at all. I think he just wanted someone to make living an adventure for him, whether they actually went on any or not." She regarded him with an expression of almost-remorse, "I know the feeling. Being the only girl in a family of boys, I'm used to a double standard. Either I'm too small, too girly and too weak to go with them, or I have to man up and be one of the boys. It's just impossible to find that missing thing when everyone is treating you as if you're made of gold, and you want everything and you can surely have everything...but the one thing you want is impossible to have."

He shifted closer, perking up for the first time as he met her eyes. "And what is that?"

Her eyes widened and she blinked as if she had finally realized she was not having a solo reverie, or discussing matters of her heart with Zofie, who was only inclined to listen for the aspect of a story. I decided to make myself known then. She could only flounder around the boy so much without it seeming intentional.

Rain's shoulders relaxed considerably and her smile brightened; whether it was just a properly composed lie or not didn't seem to matter. "Good morning," she chirped. I went over to the coffee pot before it boiled all of its contents away, shutting it off and gently removing the plug. She winced as if she expected me to be angry. "A prat, hm?"

She went red. I brought the coffee over and poured the three respective cups myself, refusing to make her rise to dress them. Charles propped his bony elbows up, one on the counter and the other on the back of the chair, "Hey Bram."

"You, why are you in my house?" I replied, "Don't you have a job of some sort?"

He grinned, "Not officially."

"Well then, I suppose you ought to look for one."

He kept up that impish look as if he expected me to offer something. Rain blushed, immediately rising to fuss over food. I guided her toward her chair, "Stop acting like my mother. You're too young to get so domesticated."

"Maybe I should look into the diner. You like it there, right?" he asked my baby cousin.

"She's never been," I answered for her while warming up a blood bag for her.

Charlie sighed as if seven years off in the wild had made him into a normal kid. "Bram, seriously. Do I really have to go through presenting you a pig to get to take Rain out?"

"My niece is worth more than a pig, I can assure you. Two cows and a lamb and we can talk."

"Bram!" she exclaimed. Her face went cola-bottle red. I almost laughed. Charlie sighed and pushed himself out of the chair. He looked between us, searching for words for a moment before giving up. "I gotta go."

I would've warned him that Zofie was waking up and if she saw him, she'd be very likely to ambush him looking for news on her little friend, but there were just some courses of revenge I still favored over others. Rain glared at my side as I slid into my seat and took a long, invigorating drink of scalding, sweet coffee. "I can't believe you," she murmured.

"You're too young," I replied on reflex.

"I'm older than him!" she half-shouted.

I laughed, "Oh no you're not! Not physically, not mentally, and certainly not in the calendar year."

"I'm a perfectly legal adult! I don't need your permission for anything!"

She didn't even need me to turn back to understand my train of thought; if you looked fourteen in the vampiric world, you were fourteen. That boy looked older than her and I looked older than her, therefore we were older than her. With a scowl on her pretty features, she sunk into her seat and stabbed at her food. "I cook for you, I help with Zofie, and you don't trust me on a diner date with a boy?"

"It's not that I don't trust you, I don't trust him. He's been living in a hippie commune for seven years, he doesn't have the best child-rearing village to his name." I cut a piece of sausage, intending to end the conversation there.

"Maybe you're just jealous that they're capable of living better with less."

If I hadn't been eating, I would've laughed. I swallowed the bite I'd been chewing and replied while cutting another, "Yes, I'm incredibly envious of people who find their entire world to be corrupt and horrible with no way to change it but to go dance naked in the woods and live off the land without modern convenience." I looked at her very seriously, "We can always change the world, Rainy. It always comes down to the people who can do and the people who can pass along information so others may hope to do as well."

She would've liked to have something sharper to say, something truer, but she didn't and we both knew it. She pushed away her chair and stormed off like a little girl, just as Gory brought Zofie in from clinging to our visitor. She glanced after the petulant child and rose a delicate brow in questioning. When I didn't acknowledge Rain's storming out, she set Zofie down in her chair beside me. "What was that about?"

"Promise me something, Zofie," I murmured to her. Her eyes lifted and she tilted her head slightly. "Promise me that you'll wait until you look old enough to date a boy to get interested in them."

She rolled her eyes and grabbed her fork, "Daddy, I love you, but you boys are not that impressive."

I laughed out loud and scooped her up, fork and all. She grinned as I pressed her to my chest with as much force as I could without harming her. I kissed her forehead firmly, "You make me a very happy father whether you understand it yet or not."

She beamed, crawling free from my lap to eat her breakfast. Vinnie wandered in not a moment later and made a beeline for his coffee, "So what got into the firecracker?"

"He won't let her go out with Charlie," Gory giggled. Her eyes flickered to mine, "It seems like an eternity since we've thought about things like that."

Vinnie rose a brow, "Yeah? 'Cause she just came blazing down the stairs like she was late for somethin' and ran out the door before I had time to ask her."

I paused in my eating to consider going after her before I simply shook my head and continued. Gory rose a brow, silently asking if I had intent to stop her. I took a sip of coffee and shook my head, "No. She wants to go run off and do god knows what with that boy, she can run off and do god knows what with that boy. When she calls for a ride, though, she'll be on her own to walk back."

"That's just cruel," she murmured into her coffee.

I laughed under my breath. "If you think that's cruel, darling, wait until she gets home and finds out what she won't be doing for another month."


	41. Chapter Forty-One

_Chapter Forty-One_

Rain was streaming down the windows of the diner as the tender storms rumbled overhead in passing. I sighed, tugging Zofie's rain hat down onto her head firmly. She glanced at me, her little legs swinging off the edge of the seat, "Is Rainy in trouble?"

"Less than if your father were to go after her," I replied. I scooped her up out of her seat and climbed out, instantly diving into the cold, splattering rain. I shut the door quickly and dashed up under the awning before I clicked the lock on the keys. Zofie giggled and reached out, attempting to catch a splattered drop or two in her tiny palm. She looked at me with pure delight, instantly contrasting other children as soon as we stepped inside. A pair of lizard-skinned children cowered in their seats at the gentle rumbling overhead. Zofie's eyes locked onto her fire-haired cousin and she broke into a wide grin; the state of the weather hardly phased her in her quest for Rain. As we approached, I saw her wince visibly. Zofie crawled from my arms into her cousin's, "Wanna go puddle-jumping Rainy?"

She looked at me. I shook my head and tugged the brim of her floppy little yellow hat back from her face to wipe the dewdrops of rain away. "So, how's your date?"

The both of them looked at me sheepishly. Charlie raised a cheese-dipped fry and shrugged, "The food's great. I can't complain."

I glanced to Rain, waiting for her reply. She stared down at her fries and stroked them through ketchup as if it were about to uncover the secrets to life. I took Zofie back into my arms and sighed, "How about I take this one down to another table and you come meet me when you're ready for a ride home?"

She lifted her eyes, "You'd really let us finish up?"

"I may be old, but I haven't lost my sense of romance." I ruffled her boyfriend's hair as I stood and turned to face her, "He speaks Spanish in his sleep. And it's not even coherent Spanish."

"Go away," Charlie instantly replied, raising his eyes to glare at me like an easily irritated younger sibling. Rain smiled at him with tender-eyed sheepishness. I understood that look better than most people would've expected after eleven years with one man. Zofie hopped down from my side and ran over to one of the corner booths, sliding all the way in until she'd monopolized the rounded inside. Her tiny feet swung like pendulums, thumping softly against the vinyl seat. Iris, one of Draculaura's former school friends, wandered up and smiled down at her. "What will it be, sweetheart?"

"Hot chocolate," Zofie chirped. She glanced at me and I nodded, seconding the order. Iris smiled at her and headed off to assemble our drinks. The thumping of Zofie's feet against the booth only lasted another half minute before she pulled them up onto the cushions and looked at me with an expression too somber for a six year old. "When is Aleksi coming home?"

I smiled and moved closer. She snuggled into my side, allowing me to fully drape my arm around her tiny shoulders. "Soon, my darling. If you'd like to go see him-"

"No," she said quickly, "No, it's okay. I just wanted to know."

I stole a glance over my shoulder to the giggling teenagers and back down to my daughter. Her eyes had lifted to the ceiling tiles and she examined them with muted interest. The rain began to subside as I watched out the window. A pair of sparrows danced across the damp hood of the hearse before flitting off, little wings flapping with strength beyond their bodies.

"Should I feel guilty?" Zofie asked me after a moment. "I like Rainy. She's nice to me and she doesn't bother me. I know I should like Aleksi but he's loud and he always wants to do something."

I tried not to smile, but she was describing male kind in a sentence. I ran my fingers softly through her hair and nodded in understanding, "I know, darling. You didn't do anything wrong, though. No point in feeling guilty over something no one could control." She glanced back out the window at the thin clouds allowing through much stronger beams of sun and looked at me. I rubbed her shoulder softly in reassurance. An upward draft of warmth caused me to look down to where a pair of matching mugs were placed on the table. Iris smiled. I produced money from my wallet and handed it to her, but before she could go to make change, I smiled. "Keep it."

Zofie sipped her cocoa gingerly, attempting not to burn her tongue. It smelled strongly of cinnamon, cream and rich chocolate. The diner had some of the best food, that was certainly why Draculaura had worked here in high school and through part of college. I took a ginger sip of my own, enveloped in a rather needed warmth. The cool and the rain nudged the need for warmth into us, even in the beginnings of July. Zofie looked up, eyes wide, and I caught a faint scent of amber perfume.

"So that's the little demon who made you miss prom," Cleo cooed affectionately. She slid into the seat across from mine, her silken wrap dress coating a body suit of bandages. They were wrapped loosely around her ankles and wrists like accents. Zofie's eyes widened and she moved closer to the Nile princess, clasping Cleo's Eye of Horus necklace in her palm. We both watched as she traced her little fingers over the tiny sapphires embedded in its gold. Her eyes lifted to Cleo's face, "It's real?"

"Real and ancient," she replied. My daughter's eyes reached a fullness they hadn't been since her infancy, almost wide enough to form a planetary orbit, and she traced her fingers over Cleo's jewelry with open adoration. I met the glimmering eyes of my former friend, periwinkle blue glistening like jewels. "I can't say I have one of my own, but yours is certainly not the monster I remember."

"She was never a monster," I replied. Cleo only smiled demurely, restraining the obvious hostility. Zofie sat back after a moment and simply stared at her, drawing Cleo's eyes down to her, "Something catch your eye, darling girl?"

Zofie shrugged, "It's nothing special. Mama has more pretty things."

Cleo's eyes blazed. I tried to hide my pride, but it was hard to internalize. Zofie picked up her cup and held it in both hands, sipping from it delicately. As she withdrew, a dot of whipped cream was on her tiny nose. My friend's anger ebbed away and she produced a linen cloth to wipe it from her face, "She's gotten so big. How do you stand it?"

"She'll slow down soon," I replied. "It's getting slower and slower every day. I can't imagine what being stuck at thirteen will be like."

Her nose twitched, but she sipped her cocoa and listened as she knew she should. Cleo folded her arms on the table and stared at me, likely judging the fact that I had curbed my use of corsets and never bothered to work away the extra curves that pregnancy had left me with. I took notice of her too; she was lovely as always. "How's your sister?" I asked casually, but I could see that it instantly struck a nerve. Cleo's eyes lowered before they lifted. I reached out to her, waiting for her to resist as I caught her hand. She didn't. I slid my fingers slowly through hers and gave her hand a gentle squeeze, "Is she any better?"

"Worse, actually. It's been years, you know. It's been...quite a spiral."

I moved to her side, unable to resist soothing the guarded agony in her expression. I draped my arms around her and held her gently. "I'm sorry, dearest. I know how much she means to you."

"She's not horrible right now," Cleo murmured. "She's just not as well off as she used to be."

I massaged her shoulder at my loss of words. She sighed, running her fingers through her long, dark locks. I forced a smile, "How's Deuce?"

That seemed to warm her a bit. She glanced to Zofie again and sighed, "I envy you greatly sometimes. I hope you know that."

I shrugged, "It's not a particular source of happiness." Although it was quite the confidence boost. I moved away from her and allowed her to slip from under my grasp. She rose and looked at Zofie, still gulping down her cocoa with renewed interest as it had cooled enough to be properly ingested, There was a measure of understanding in her eyes that I reciprocated. "I wish you both well."

She smiled slightly, "Congratulations on defeating Satan before our friend's wedding. You have a lot of nerve."

I quirked my head and sipped my cocoa. "That's probably why you won prom queen."

Cleo looked at me as if I had said the one thing she had needed to hear to regain her composure and smiled to me with more genuine warmth than I had seen from her in a very long time. We had always had our differences, but to know that the occasion continued to arise to put them aside was comforting at best. "Tell Bram I hope he's still gorgeous for your sake."

"Tell Deuce I hope he never gets on your bad side," I teased.

As she walked away, Zofie lowered her cup and looked at her. "Who is she, Mommy?"

"An old friend, sweetheart," I replied. The table we were waiting for cleared as soon as Cleo left and Charlie wrapped Rain in a tight embrace. He kissed her cheek and murmured something to her that made her laugh, and like a true gentleman, he picked up the check. I smirked, waiting for him to turn before toasting my cocoa silently to him. He smiled slightly as he released her. They parted ways, leaving her to turn to me with a wide grin. I caught a horrified glance of her outfit and nearly burst into laughter. She crossed the room and clasped her hands to her sides, beaming at me for approval.

"Did you get dressed in the dark?" Zofie asked.

Rain scooped her up, cup and all, and kissed her face. She immediately wiped the kisses off, "Ugh, boy germs." My cousin, however, completely ignored it. She turned to me with an expression of absolute delight and passed my daughter into my arms. "It was worth it," she exhaled. She turned on her heel and headed for the car, taking the time to twirl on the way out. I paused to down the last sip of my cocoa while Zofie met my eyes, "Wanna bet she won't be happy when Daddy sees her?"

"I don't need to bet on that."

...

"How could you?" Bram hissed. Zofie had gone to play upstairs and I busied myself with cleaning up, but the door to the den was partially open and I could hear his every word as if I had joined them myself. "I'm letting you stay because I want you to have a better opportunity than you'd have with your brothers, not to go live out some stupid little teenage fantasy."

"Bram," she replied, a slight whine in her voice, "He's a nice boy! There's nothing for you to object to!"

"There's plenty for me to object to!" he snapped. "I told you not to go out with him, and what did you do? You went right into disobeying me!"

"It was just lunch!" she nearly shouted.

"I don't care if it was just lunch! He doesn't have a car! If he let you walk home alone, do you understand the trouble you could get yourself into!? This is a co-species town! Not a one of those human boys would care what you are!"

Her tone dropped, becoming much more composed, "Bram, I can defend myself."

"My wife was older than you when she said that and was almost killed by lycans, you want to tell me you're strong enough to go out on your own, you'd best prove it." My skin tingled with a phantom chill. "I'm incredibly disappointed in you, Rainy."

She was silent for a long moment, but he waited for her to speak. I carried a vase of flowers downstairs, keeping my steps quiet.

"Just punish me and get it over with," she said. I had the nagging suspicion he had never been disappointed in her before. It likely hurt more than any anger could've.

"You're grounded. No going out, three weeks. Get upstairs."

I went into the kitchen and dumped out the water before refilling the vase. I set it on the counter and withdrew the scissors from the drawer under the sink to snip the ends of the stems. Rain audibly stormed off upstairs, leaving the both of us to our respective duties.

"It's alright," I murmured, "She'll understand one day."

He exhaled, wandered over to me and wrapped his arms around my waist. "Now she sees us as people who were never barred from each other who are keeping her from her little boyfriend."

I tilted my head upward and kissed his jaw softly, "She will understand. Just give her time. Rainy isn't a little girl, she knows more than we think she knows."

"Or we can have Zofie explain it," he muttered. I laughed, arranged the flowers back in their vase and turned to him. Stealing a kiss, I murmured against his lips, "Trust me. She'll come around before long. You're doing a great job."

He rose a brow and smiled, "I like the sound of that, but with what?"

I headed across the room, listening to him pick up one of the apples from our bowl of fruit and turned before I had a chance to leave the kitchen. He was my prince, with gilded hair and gemstone eyes and a greater kindness than any other man the world had ever witnessed. I felt an immense amount of pride just to be his partner in life. "Being their father."

He smiled rather timidly and let his eyes drop down to the apple in his hands. I fluffed the petals of a flower and murmured, "You're also an amazing husband, just in case you doubted that."


	42. Chapter Forty-Two

_Chapter Forty-Two_

I scrolled slowly as he sunk into the sofa beside me. His arm wound gently around my shoulders as he peeked over my shoulder. "What are you doing?" he murmured. I glanced to him and gently moved aside, allowing him to read the words on my screen. He broke into a proud smile, "Are these the critics?"

"No," I replied. He knew that the last thing I cared for was the feedback of a bunch of stuffy, starched old men. He rolled his eyes and leaned over me to open a new tab and pull up my critics' reviews. I folded my legs a bit tighter as if I had an actual physical way to respond to the tightness in my stomach. He lifted my laptop off my lap and set it on his own, his fingers tracing softly against the collar of my shirt, "_Gory Fangtell-Devein executes a brilliant plot with an accurate leading lady and a dashing male counterpart. From her reputation in vampire culture, it's hard not to imagine that she put quite a bit of herself into her work._" He glanced at me with a small smirk, "_Mrs. Devein makes it easy to support the leads in every decision they make, even the misguided ones. At times it seems impossible to be on their side, yet it is those moments that make the characters impossibly, irrevocably human."_

I released my breath and unwound my fingers from each other, "That's good, isn't it?" I murmured.

He nodded, "That's fantastic."

I unwound from my limbs and laid against him to read the next few. He scrolled slowly, giving both of us the proper time to read each line. I wasn't used to such support, not even with Monster High in my lifetime. He ran his open palm over my back and broke into a wide smile, "This is amazing."

I had refrained from the news as long as possible. I slid my fingers through his and beamed, "Do you want to know what's really amazing?"

His brows rose as he glanced to me. From the smile on my face, I knew instantly he had jumped to conclusions, yet he waited with infinite patience. I sat up and properly laced my fingers through his, "Valentine is moving in with Cupid."

He set my laptop on the table and pulled me to my feet. I laughed and allowed myself to be lifted and embraced with likely most of the force in his body. He kissed me firmly and crossed the room, casting open the doors with a flourish, "Are you really leaving?!"

I lifted my laptop and returned to my esteem-boosting reading as I heard my brother appear at the top of the stairs, "Yes, I intend to. As deeply as I adore my niece, I'd rather not watch the both of you make eyes at each other every opportunity you get. Christ, you should've grown out of your hormones by now."

"I'll fetch you some newspaper for the rabbit," was all Bram called up in reply. I heard him head out to the garage and the descending steps of Valentine's shoes on the staircase. They rounded the corner and approached me, yet didn't pass the sofa. He leaned over at my side as if he granted me a second head, "What is this all about?"

"Destiny, my dear," I replied. "Destiny and chicken."

He tugged my clip out of my hair and flicked it onto the sofa cushion beside me. I glanced up at him, "I can always paint your nails while you sleep."

"Yes, because you have so much time away from your _silver-tongued gentleman._ For the love of all that's good, I have ears. There are things in this lifetime I never wanted to hear from my sister's mouth."

I blushed and threw my clip at him. He merely caught it and set it on the arm of the sofa at my side and planted a firm kiss to the side of my head. "You are a horridly spoiled little brat, and I will miss living with you. I just will not miss worrying about coming in late at night to find the two of you whispering devious things to each other on the sofa where I watch television."

I tried to swat him again. He laughed, dodging my swing. I shook my head, relenting. "I'll miss you too, to a degree. I won't miss cleaning up after you or that rabbit."

"Princess loves Chariclo, and Chariclo Princess." I swore he loved that rabbit more than he had the capability to love a child of his own. He smoothed my hair, "Zofie won't mind, will she?"

"You're hardly around now," I replied. "She'll understand."

"I will come over as often as I can," he murmured. I lifted my eyes and sat back, taking note of the emotion in his eyes. The adoration he held for my daughter surpassed the adoration he held for me, the rabbit, or even Chariclo. I squeezed his hand, "She understands, Val. I think you'll be taking it harder than she will. She still has Rain to latch onto."

He nodded. Still, I understood how obliged to her he felt. Our parents had been unable to attend her birth, so he had. Much like Sean, he doted over my little monster with all of his heart. I reached up and tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear, "I was always afraid you'd end up an eternal bachelor like Sean."

He caught my fingers and kissed them softly with a gentle shaking of his head. "I think she might be special enough to fix that."

It was the most beautifully reassuring thing I had ever heard. Not so much for Zofie. Her little footsteps came running into the room and she darted in front of the sofa, her eyes wide like little saucers, "What? You're leaving?"

He nodded. She looked to me desperately for confirmation. I put my laptop down and opened my arms for her. She looked up at him as if he'd betrayed her. "What about learning magic? Who's gonna keep the bad things away?"

He lowered to her level and gently grasped her arms, "That's all over now, sugarplum. I'm not gonna be far away. Twenty minutes tops. I'm gonna come over as much as I can and you can always call." Her lower lip began to tremble and she pressed them together in an attempt to be strong. He rubbed her arms slowly and rested his forehead against hers, "Zofie, sugar...you know it's gonna be like nothing changed. You lived without Uncle Val before."

"But there are bad things now," she whisper-hissed. "There wasn't any bad things before."

He brushed her hair from her face and nudged her tiny chin gently, "Yes, there were. There have always been and will always be bad things. The bad things just aren't yours anymore, and they're not coming back."

"You can't promise that," she whispered. She grabbed onto his jacket sleeve, "You know you can't promise me that."

"Yes I can," he murmured, "I can do a little of my own, make sure your house is safe for me to leave. And if anything ever happens, I'll just be down in town. I'll come right back."

Her quivering lips pulled down at the corners. It was the most heart-wrenching thing to see Zofie cry, but when she cried it felt as if I needed to brace Manhattan for the impact of the Hulk. Her eyes scrunched together and she tried not to, but then she let loose a little girl scream of emotional agony and threw herself on her uncle's knees. Successfully knocking him into the sofa, she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed with all the force of her little limbs. He choked and pried her hands back to a less lethal distance. She bawled, clinging to him desperately. "I don't want you to go! You're not gonna leave me!"

"Zofie," I murmured. I climbed off the sofa and gently wrapped my arm around her waist, "Honey, you're hurting him-"

"I don't care!" she screamed, "Uncle Val isn't leaving!"

She was not prone to tantrums, despite what most people expected. I forced her hands to release from her uncle's neck. She didn't understand the extent of her strength, and Valentine shook his head to regain the full use of his neck. Bruises were already developing where her arms had locked so tightly around his neck. She screamed and stamped her tiny feet and bawled. Her words were an incoherent babble of _no's_.

Valentine sighed and scooped her up from my grasp. He rocked her tenderly, allowing her to sob and soak his shoulder in tears. He grasped a handful of tissues and wiped her face clean, holding them to her nose with silent instruction. She snatched them from his grasp and blew her own nose.

"I will not be far," he murmured to her. "I pinkie promise you."

"Yeah, sure." She wriggled until he set her down and dashed off down the hall. I threw him an apologetic glance, book marked everything and went to power down. "She's not going to play well with others," he observed. "She's a lot like you."

I sighed. "I know." I was not the kind of person I should've hoped for her to take after in temperament. Tucking my laptop under my arm, I went upstairs. Call it mother's intuition, but I opened my door and found her there, nestled into the burgundy duvet. I set my laptop on the desk and crawled into bed beside her. Her tiny, tightly-curled body laid in the center of our bed, tears streaming down into the soft cotton and down. I scooped her up and gently brought her up to the pillows. Even as I turned her toward me, she turned away, pressing her face into the covered lumps of down like a fussy toddler.

I caressed her damp locks of hair behind her ears with a silent sigh. "Do you know how your uncle looked at you when you were born?" She didn't move to answer me, her little fingers wrapped in the softness of the material on our bed as if it were her teddy bear. I combed my fingers through her hair, freeing any tiny tangles from the tender gold. "I was in the worst pain I had ever felt in my entire existence, and your poor, masochistic uncle held one of my hands while your father held the other. I think your father was a bit too horrified to look, but your uncle was _so nervous._ He'd never seen a baby born, you know. When you came into this world, he almost fainted."

She turned her face from me. I sighed and ran my fingers through her hair. "Alright, maybe it was because he didn't think it was entirely possible to actually birth a child your size, but he handled it better than I anticipated."

She turned slightly toward me, "I was not a fat baby."

I laughed as I lightly kissed her forehead, "I never said that."

She released her breath in a huff and wiped her face, "Is he moving away because he has a girlfriend?"

I nodded. "He's serious about this girlfriend, sweetheart. You never know, he may actually put a ring on this one's finger."

She rolled on her back and looked up at me with an expression well beyond her years. She laced her fingers gently through the front of my shirt and whimpered. I slid my arm under her head and cradled her close, "It's alright, my sweetest. He won't be far."

She curled closely against me and whispered, "But what if something happens to Daddy again?"

I froze where I laid and gently propped her up. She continued nuzzling into me, though, refusing to let go. "Zofie," I said gently, "Nothing is going to happen like that. Not ever again." She curled into me tightly, her little body rather relaxed against mine. As much as she trusted me, her question had made my breath catch in my throat. It was bad enough that Bram feared himself, doubted himself, but to think I was the only one left whose faith in him hadn't been shaken absolutely broke my heart.

I held her for quite a while. Eventually, the door slipped open and shut again in silence and his steps brushed across the floor. I lifted my eyes to meet his as he crawled into bed with us. He laid his arm across our pillows, giving me the open opportunity to nestle into him and gently place Zofie between us.

"Is she alright?" he murmured.

I laid my head on his shoulder, "She is now."

He cupped her gently against his chest. Zofie nodded off, her little fingers winding in his shirt as she was transferred gently against him. He traced his fingers slowly through her hair and kissed her forehead softly. "Take a nap," I murmured to him, "You deserve it."

He cracked a small smile, "And I suppose you'll handle everything in the mean time?"

"Don't I always?" I kissed him as softly as he kissed her, but he was having none of it. He brushed my lips down to his and caught them gently in a much warmer, much more adoring kiss. I exhaled softly, unable to keep the smile from taking up my lips. "I love you," I whispered to him.

"I love you too," he replied. "I just wish you'd let me take care of you sometime, lady author." He settled in with Zofie nestled in his arms. Her eyes were still a bit pink with the exertion of tears and he seemed more than happy to rest for a while. I paused at the door and watched them settle in. No amount of words could match the joy they brought me, no matter how kind. "It's my job," I murmured. He flashed me a tiny smile as I slipped out and silently shut the door.


	43. Chapter Forty-Three

_Chapter Forty-Three_

Before nightfall had even settled in, Val was packing up his car. I watched him carry the boxes out one by one, loading them into his car delicately. It came down to his dirty laundry, his necessities and his rabbit, all of which he decided to wait until morning to take care of. I didn't know why I had anticipated him leaving in the dead of night when Zofie couldn't corner him and beg him not to escape; perhaps it was that reason alone that kept him with us for the rest of the night. We sat together in the main room while he went through his box of tricks and tossed things into the roaring fire.

He came down to his sketches and began separating them into piles; one of non-suggestive intent and one that I could simply describe as artistic porn. He bound the artistic porn together and threw it in the blaze. I rose a brow and sipped my tea, "Well, that's a shock coming from you."

He began sorting the innocent ones into two piles again. I noticed him removing all of the ones that resembled Draculaura until he only had one in the small stack of sketches, yet he seemed hesitant to throw them away. He examined them all for a moment as if committing them to memory, and then he did exert the most self-control I had seen him possess in quite some time and flick them into the blaze.

"Can I at least ask what's triggered all of this?" I murmured.

"I am moving on," he said simply. "I would like to be starting over without her."

I nodded. All of the papers were sorted, separated into things he intended to keep and things he did not. Once he had come down to the hearts, he sighed. "I need to properly rid myself of these."

I didn't want to know. He picked up the box and moved it away. I really didn't want embalmed organs cooking in the fireplace, and apparently neither did he. He leaned back and watched the rest of his past burn, massaging his temples as he sat with worn out photos and long-lost love letters crumbling to dust. I exhaled slowly, "You love her."

He closed his eyes, "I'm tired of putting up a facade. Ari, she may not always trust me, but she loves me more than most."

I rolled my eyes. "I didn't ask if she loves you, I asked if you love her."

He didn't budge. He must've been tired, whether it was from moving or the emotional toll of finally growing up. He took a deep breath and released it slowly, his dark eyes fluttering before he shifted onto his side and glanced at me. "I do."

"Can you say that without doubt?" I replied. "Because if you can doubt it, it's not love."

"She can't enchant me," he muttered. "I don't have a reason to doubt that I'm in love with her." It seemed to take him a moment to realize what he'd said. He placed the memorabilia on the cushion beside me and rose quickly, "I'll be back."

I nodded. He paused, withdrawing his keys and throwing them to me in silent instruction to place the tokens in his car with the rest of his possessions. I nodded once as I caught them. He scooped up the box and turned sharply, departing out the front door before I had a chance to properly wonder what he intended to do with the embalmed hearts. Half of Val's ego came off his powers, to think that he intended to give them up for love was a far-fetched one at best. I took his papers out to his car anyway and brought his keys in when I was through. I didn't feel that it was late enough to go to bed, so I left his keys in his bedroom and turned on the stereo in the den on a low volume. With my tea in hand, I wandered back to the kitchen for a refresher and perhaps a snack. The nocturnal hours were growing on me increasingly quickly. Perhaps it was my freedom of movement, or my freedom of thought and the sheer intensity of every emotion that became so completely uninhibited when the sun ducked away beneath the horizon, but I had fallen fast in love with the summer nights. It was quiet now across my kingdom, not a storm from weather or man.

With a fresh dose of tea in hand, I returned to the solitude of the den and laid across the sofa. Notes of champagne flavored the tea in my hands, a smooth undertone to the full-bodied taste of fruit in the free-flowing leaves. Maybe my peace in the night was brought on by self-induced nirvana. Maybe I had finally come to terms with the necessity of relaxation in my line of work. The sunny hours were so stressful, for no reason than the urge to complete six tasks at once. I was able to breathe freely and bask in the coolness of the air without another person to disturb me. Selfish as the thought was, I entertained it. There was plenty of time to put others before myself tomorrow. Tomorrow, the physical later. The return to consciousness after eight or more hours of sleep.

I became aware of a presence near me a moment too late to address him. I sipped my tea and sat up, making room for him. He tugged me back, though, nuzzling into my hair as we curled up together. "Do you remember when we first listened to this song?"

I shrugged. Of course I did, but I'd rather he regale me with the tales of our past. I lowered my teacup to massage his knee, "Do tell me?"

"We had a free afternoon," he murmured, "You and I went out to Wilson's to fuel up the hearse and go for a drive...we ended up off in that forest preserve where nobody went. You were so worried about being caught that I told you we could stay in the car..."

I blushed, "I vaguely recall that, yes."

He chuckled, "Do you also vaguely recall that we never got into the back?"

I swatted his hand from my shoulder. He laughed, "Where's your brother?"

"Packing," I replied. "He intends to leave in the morning. I suppose he doesn't want her living alone for too long, what with her father returning to Greece after all these years and all those horrible, evil humans across town." I couldn't help but tease; Cupid might've had horrid aim, but she didn't necessarily need a protector. Attempting to convey the thought of an independent woman to Valentine was like trying to convey that no one knew _exactly_ why the sky was blue to a child.

I stretched out and set my teacup on the table. Bram picked up the remote and turned off the music. I rose a brow, tilting my head back to admire him. He shifted to bring my back to his chest properly. I rested my hands on his knees as his went to my shoulders and slowly began to ease away the remaining tension in my muscles. My head rolled back against his chest, allowing me to freely go to pieces in his hold. His thumbs dug blissfully into my tender muscles, massaging over my pressure points with almost painful firmness. I practically purred in bliss. My fingers ran softly over his trousers, toying with the material as he soothed me in the best way possible.

"What's got you so worried, _cara mia?_ Your neck is so tense...maybe a little nibble would help.." My fangs sunk into my lip as he gently tugged my sleeping shirt aside and brushed his fangs against my neck. A pleasurably cool chill ran down my spine, "Must you always tease me?"

I felt him smile against my skin before he sunk his fangs in. My toes curled in delight. I boosted myself gently, giving him a greater access to my throat. He withdrew his fangs from the little wounds and traced his tongue over the punctures with teasing slowness. I whimpered, gripping the soft cotton of his pants. He wrapped his body around mine and closed the seal over my throat. "Bram," I whispered. I could almost feel soft grass beneath my body. His body atop mine, his fangs...so gentle, despite being so deep...

He tore away from me as if he caught the stray memories firsthand. Perhaps he had; the look of horror certainly seemed to acknowledge so. He stumbled back into the bookshelves, my blood on his mouth. I touched the healing wound on my neck and touched my blood to my own mouth instead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as if he'd hurt me.

I rose quickly and crossed the room to him, catching his beautiful face in my hands. "It's okay," I murmured, "Nothing happened, nothing's wrong."

He shook his head, clutching my hands. He placed his bloody lips to my palms over and over as if begging for forgiveness. "I felt the urge," he whispered, "to bite deeper. To feel you writhing in my arms. I was going to hurt you."

I traced my palms over his cheeks and drew his lips down to mine. He allowed me to kiss him very gently and touch my forehead tenderly to his. "You can't fear yourself like this. You ought to know I don't."

"Zofie does," he murmured. I froze. I had hoped so deeply that he didn't know, only to have those hopes thrown in a moment's notice. He pried my hands gently away and kissed my knuckles, "I can't do this anymore, not in good conscious."

My eyes widened, "Do what?"

He hesitated. For a complete heartbeat's time, I was terrified. I intended to throw myself on my knees if begging was what it would take, but he caught my hands gently in his own and pressed his lips to them. "I'm afraid to be close to you. I'm afraid to touch you."

I shook my head and slipped my arms around his neck, bringing his head to my shoulder. "I don't know what to do to make this change."

His arms wrapped loosely around my waist, his breath released in a soft sigh that fanned my throat. "I would tell you if I knew, believe me."

I cupped his head to my shoulder and softly kissed his temple. My fingers traced gently through his hair, guiding him to sink into the sofa with me once again. I held him as closely as possible and placed my lips to his head in a pleading search for peace. If Valentine had any effort left to practice magic when he returned, I'd beg for whatever it took to return the reassurance to him, to make him understand that none of this was his fault. Anything to grant my better half peace again...absolutely anything.


	44. Chapter Forty-Four

_Chapter Forty-Four_

"Dude," Clawd said through his stuffed mouth, "You are putting way too much pressure on yourself."  
At first, I had been admittedly relieved to hear Clawd and Laura's honeymoon wasn't going to be particularly lengthy due to his work. It was better for Gory to have her key player at her side as much as possible, even if that meant I wasn't able to be. I sipped on a cocktail of juice and supplement, glancing into the main entryway in an attempt to find her with my eyes. Clawd nudged me lightly, "Bram. Seriously. Stop worrying, she's fine."

My gaze returned to him and I rose a brow, "I doubt that you understand this, being the poster boy of romance and all."

His mouth twitched and he wiped a napkin across his face. "No, because I'm totally in control at the full moon. I never have to worry about killing Lala while she's falling asleep during a movie." His dark, amber gaze rolled, "It doesn't even take real physical contact anymore."

The girls laughed. I propped my head up on my fist and sighed. "It's excruciating. I keep waiting for myself to slip with her, and it's when I think I'm not going to that it just...happens."

He nodded, taking another stab at the food he and Laura had brought with them. Apparently, they had come directly over to continue her work, forgoing rest and food in the process until they'd returned. With all that had occurred in our past, how amusing watching a werewolf eat was could've been slightly unnerving. All things considered, the only thing that ever seemed to catch me truly off guard was Gory's resilience. She wasn't supposed to be this strong, let alone be able to endure this much. Months after nearly being killed by wolves, she accepted their friendship. Now, she would much rather write the incident off as isolated than believe I could cause her serious physical harm. I didn't know whether I was proud of her bravery or shocked at her stupidity; it was a mixture of both, depending on the moment.

"It happens, Bram. That's the risk they take not being with a guy like Jackson. On the bright side, they're durable."

My eyes flicked to him, "How in all hell have you made peace with this?"

He returned the look with a much more mild expression of his own. "Because she made me. Gory's no damsel in distress, if anything, Lala could be. And if she can make me see that she can handle herself, you really shouldn't be worried about her either."

"It was never a question of whether she can take care of herself, I know she can take care of herself, but when the moment came, she rathered I kill her than kill me herself."

He rolled his eyes. "What else did you expect?"

"A little self-preservation would've been nice." He laughed once, as if he understood something that I could never hope to. Perhaps he did. Gory breezed past him with a ruffle of his hair and tugged me to my feet, "Dance with me."

I rose a brow, placing my hand on her hip and linking our fingers together anyway. The music of one of Zofie's movies was tinkling through the main room, spurring her delight a bit more as she tugged me out onto the hardwood and danced with me across it. "Is there an occasion, or do you just feel like throwing a ball?"

"We're going on a book tour," she beamed, "It'll be rather small, but we're still doing it. Draculaura has some special arrangements for us." Her fingers squeezed my own. I couldn't resist obliging her to a sweeping dip. She laughed, refusing to budge a moment to right herself on her own. If I had decided to let her fall, she would've tumbled without a second thought. I sighed, "What am I going to do with you?"

"Say yes and come with me," she breathed in delight. I tugged her to her feet gently. She threw her arms around my neck and gave a fierce squeeze, leaving absolutely no question as to where our daughter got the habit from. I released a sigh, "We just got settled in here."

"I know," she replied with a beaming grin.

"Clawd and Draculaura-"

"Are coming with," she said, "We're taking a steam engine, Bram. It'll be just like the old days."

I rolled my eyes. "We didn't have any old days." Dissuading her was obviously more of an impossibility than I had the knowledge of. She freed herself from my grasp, likely knowing that whether I protested or not, I was not about to let her take Zofie on a cross-country escapade all by herself, especially when the majority of her chaperoning would be given by a five-foot elf of a vampire who believed in nearly complete pacifism.

"Draculaura, will you talk some sense into this woman?" I called into the other room.

She emerged with Zofie in her arms, "What sense is there to be said? We're going on a trip, it'll be fun!"

"A trip involving trunks and old dresses, no doubt." She complained enough dealing with the heat in modern clothes, the last thing I wanted to put up with was a very irritable wife in a scalding metal death trap on a trek across the country that neither of us had much say in.

"How would you rather do it?" she asked, placing her hand on her hip in irritation. I couldn't help but grin, "I think we can compromise."

...

_Shoot to Thrill_ was blasting out of the Impala while Vinnie tinkered under the hood. I watched him clean grease from gears for a good ten minutes before I spoke. "How many problems could that car possibly have?"

He jumped, swinging his wrench like it was a legitimate weapon. I tried not to smirk. "How's your miniature?"

"Racking up a small fortune in ice cream," he replied. He wiped the sweat from his brow on his dirty, ripped-up shirt and continued his gear work, "What'd you want?"

"How'd you feel about a road trip?"

His eyes lifted. He met my gaze like I was half insane before breaking into a grin, "This isn't gonna be one of those Outsiders reference things of hers, is it?"

"We'll never pass through Tulsa if we don't have to," I replied. "Just us and the open road, if you want."

He sized me up and leaned on the grill. "Whataya want?"

I shrugged, "Absolutely nothing. I just figured you'd like to come with us if we were to embark on a trip by car-"

He held up a hand. I could tell he was listening to the musical voices of the girls upstairs and he smirked, "She got you into something you don't wanna do. That has got to be a first."

I gave him a look. There was logic in my assessment, a logic that the whims of females tended not to use. He rose a brow in return and leaned on the hood, "Why are you doing this? Usually you're game for whatever she wants to do, whether it means you have to fish her out of the East River in her underwear or not."

I sighed. He waited, even though I had nothing to say. After a moment, he pushed himself up and shut the hood of his car. "No."

"No?" Genuine surprise colored my tone; Vinnie was not one to resist an idea, especially a half-baked one.

"Nope," he replied. "You're stuck with her unless you come up with an idea of your own. If you can't communicate, that's your own problem."

Can't communicate? I glared at him as I removed myself from near his precious car and went back inside. "Told you so!" he called. An exhale slid from my chest to calm the absolute fury that had taken up my logical mind in dealing with him. If anyone could piss off the pope, he would certainly be it. I almost went for one of his drinks. Still coming off my haze of fury, I slammed the refrigerator door and stalked down to the basement.

With the lights off, the cold was actually kind to my senses. I laid on the carpeting and allowed the blood bag to sink, unopened, to the fabric beneath my back. Can't communicate. I could communicate well enough to get the kind of job that would literally cause homicide between competitors. I focused on my breathing, forcing the weight out of my chest. It was disgusting how I had put myself in a situation where I couldn't bear to be in close quarters with the one person I needed like a drug. She had gone to bed angry with me for the first time in our entire relationship only to wake and pretend it hadn't happened.

My hair tickled my forehead as it was brushed from my skin. I released my exhale slowly, welcoming the contact before I fully realized that I hadn't done it for myself. My eyes snapped open to find Gory kneeling over me, her fingers tenderly brushing back the locks of my hair.

"If you don't want me to go, you only have to tell me," she murmured.

Instinct made the words bubble to my lips that I wanted nothing more than for her to go and get as far away from me as possible. I was a danger to her and to Zofie, yet Clawd's words prevented them from coming free. I caught her hand, holding her touch to my forehead. She ran her fingers slowly over my skin and placed her palm flat against my cheek. Her skin was so soft, her touch impossibly warm. I sat up, pulling her closer until her body pressed to mine. A surprised breath slipped from her lips, fanning the warmth of her across my skin. She felt too alive to be real, too soft to be so strong. My hands ran over her hips, her muscles relaxing as she sunk completely onto my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. She pressed her body close to mine, allowing my fingers the access to tangle in her hair. I pressed my face into her neck and breathed her in.

"This isn't about going somewhere, is it?" she murmured.

It wasn't, but I refused to let it be about this any longer either. I pressed my lips softly to her collarbone, tracing the perfect angles with my breath. She trembled, her fingers slipping into my hair to press my lips there. "You're so cold," she murmured, "Honey, it's not a good thing to be this cold. Are you sick?"

"I'm getting better," I breathed against her breasts. I kissed over her heart softly, "I promise. Give me a bit of time before this little tour, then we'll go."

She traced her fingers through my hair, nearly pulling the locks she held onto. I could've hissed in pleasurable pain as I grasped her forearms. A breathless chuckle slipped from my lips. She let go to trace my scalp softly. "You liked that," she teased.

"I do," I murmured. I rolled over on top of her, making her laugh as I kissed her. Breathlessly, adoringly, I showered her skin in kisses. There was still tender-looking evidence of a bite on her neck; I kissed it gently over and over again. Her fingers clenched in the back of my shirt, a soft sigh of bliss passing her lips.

"Go to bed," she murmured. "I'll warm you up some blood and bring it up. I want you to rest."

I didn't have the heart to tell her that she had already alleviated most of my affliction. I held her closely and sighed softly, "Whatever you say, nurse Harley."

She swatted my shoulder playfully. I heard the crinkle of the plastic as she touched the blood bag I had held. My eyes flicked up to her as I rested my chin on her chest, "Were you waiting for me?"

"I put the dryer back on. You were just a bonus." That tender touch was bliss as it ran through my hair. The glint in her eyes held more warmth than I knew how to accept. "Join me," I murmured.

She smiled and squirmed her way free of my grip, "Maybe in a minute. I have to go yell at Vinnie for breaking into dinner supplies again."

As I rose, I smirked at her back. There had never been a time in my life greater than this one when I had never been happier not to follow one of my dear friends' advice.


	45. Chapter Forty-Five

_Chapter Forty-Five_

The day didn't settle down when Aunt Laura and Uncle Clawd went home. Aleksi came home in the late afternoon, dashing in from the sun like he was possessed. Immediately, he went straight to his room and shut every possible source of natural light. I waited for him. And then I stopped waiting for him. I went to Rain's room and waited on her bed, watching her get dressed in silence. She slid her tall socks up her skinny legs and made them straight. She put on a skirt over her polka dotted underwear and spent a while in her closet looking for a shirt. She kept muttering about too casual or too cute, so most of my laying on her bed went unnoticed. When she finally got dressed, though, right down to her incredibly girly shoes, she seemed to take notice of me. She fastened a leather bracelet on her wrist and dropped down beside the bed, grasping my hand in hers. It was very warm, and I was starting to doze off.

"Zofie," she said, "Ya can't tell your parents that I'm gone. I'm gonna lock my door and pretend to be sleepin', and I won't be out long. I'm just meetin'...meeting up with Charlie for dinner."

I didn't know why she tried to pull the Irish out of her voice. I nodded as she rose. She knew I'd do it for her, probably like she knew the minute she left I'd be stuck waiting around for Aleksi while I tried not to wait for Aleksi because my mother always said that no real man would ever make a woman wait around for him, or let the woman if she wanted to. Rainy tried to fix her hair, but it was so thick and curly that it took several pins just to get the front part back. She gave up after that, throwing me a pleading look. I closed my eyes, but she picked me up and shooed me toward the door.

"Thank ye Zo," she murmured. I heard the door lock behind me and I wandered down the hall. I didn't want to keep going to my parents when I wanted someone to entertain me, even if they knew how to work the player so I could watch movies. I went for Aleksi's room, hoping I didn't have to wait any more. There was a sharp noise, like something being thrown or knocked over, and Vinnie and Natasha were yelling at each other.

"I can't take this anymore!" she was screaming at him. I ran for Aleksi's door and hid out in the alcove. "You took yourself home and never came back! What the hell am I supposed to think, Vinnie? It's pretty obvious how much you care!"

"Don't play this shit with me, Tash! I left my job to come down here, I left everything to come down here and I don't have anything to show for it!" he yelled back.

"You have Aleksi and you're married to me," she snapped.

"That doesn't do any good. I left this town with you pregnant and mine, I came back with him out and you're still mine. I have absolutely nothing to show for the fact that I left and I made a good thing for myself and I came back here to do what my friends needed me to do."

"So do something-"

"I can't! I don't want to stay here! I'm not him, Tash, I don't want to stick around after high school, and high school's long gone."

She must've been doing the counting backward from ten thing Daddy did when he was angry. It didn't reach zero before she started talking though. "This is a nice place to raise a family. Aleksi has friends here."

"A friend," he said in a less loud voice, "He has a friend. And he had friends before. You wouldn't know, you didn't ask."

There was a crack of a slap. I winced. The door threw open and I winced. Vinnie stalked off down the hall, rubbing his face. His keys jingled as he pulled his jacket on. As soon as he passed, I slid into Aleksi's room and found him sitting in the too-big desk with his empty ant farm sitting on the shelf of it. His feet were swinging, and he didn't look up at me.

"Ground Control to Major Tom," I said. He lifted his head and looked at me, a spark of something in his eyes. I smiled, "My mom says it a lot."

"It's from a song," he said. "Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars."

"Are you sure that's not a movie?" I asked, crawling up onto the chair with him. He was building a puzzle, and I watched while he put together the pieces of the pineapple house. He nodded. I folded my arms and put my head on them, glancing over to him out of the corner of my eyes. "I missed you."

He smiled. "I missed you too. Even if you are mean."

I picked up a puzzle piece and turned it around and around in my hand. I couldn't make sense of it. It was one of those weirdly shaped four-stick-outs pieces that fit in somewhere, but didn't fit in anywhere yet. I laid my head back down and closed my eyes.

"You wanna take a nap?" he asked. "I already had one, but I won't mind."

I lifted my head and crawled down from the chair onto his stack of beanbag chairs. There was a small pile of them in the corner next to the desk. I laid down in them, but I couldn't fall asleep. I held onto the piece of his puzzle, taking deep breaths and trying to forget his parents fighting. Mine didn't...did they? He didn't know, how would I?

I listened to him shuffling and trying puzzle pieces for a while. His desk light was on, but not the rest. His room was a nice place to go to sleep. I climbed up out of them eventually. He looked at me and tried not to smile. "I'll come back," I said, even though he didn't ask.

"I know," he replied. I was going to put down his puzzle piece, but he shook his head and closed my hand around it. I looked at it and at him, making him smile as he said in a fake Chinese accent, "Insurance policy."

I shook my head. He definitely sounded like Uncle Vinnie more than Auntie Tash. Maybe it was why I liked Aleksi so much. He didn't take being alive as seriously as his mother did. I put his puzzle piece in my pocket and headed off to find my parents. It wasn't late enough for them to be in bed, but there wasn't a lot of noise from downstairs, just Uncle Vinnie clinking moving things in the refrigerator. I went all the way from their hallway down to mine and pushed on my parents' bedroom door.

It might've been early, but they were laying down with their TV on. Mommy was leaning up on her elbows like she did when she tried to get me to go to sleep, stroking Daddy's hair and kissing his forehead softly. His head laid on her arm, the fingers of their other hands linked together. His eyes opened and flicked down to me. His free arm opened. I shut the door and ran over to him, letting him scoop me up and place me between them. They weren't even in their pajamas and the sheets weren't even pulled back. "Are you taking a nap too?" I asked, cuddling into his side.

"That would be a lovely idea," he replied and kissed my face. Mommy laughed with her breath and kissed my head. I was stuck between them, the warmth from them both wrapping around me like a blanket. Daddy stretched out his arm to pull us both in, and I cuddled up close to give Mommy space to fit. She stroked my hair slowly, just like she did with his. "Something wrong, sweetheart?"

I shook my head and curled in tightly. They didn't fight. The one time they might've been in a fight, that wasn't them. I linked my fingers in his shirt. He didn't look at me like I was someone else's princess. He didn't look at Mommy like she was a nuisance...

"I'm really glad you're my daddy," I murmured into his chest. He laughed, picking me up and placing me on his chest. I closed my eyes, my fingers still wrapped in soft fabric. I could hear his heart beating, slow like mine. Bum...ba bum...ba bum...ba bum. It felt so nice. "What's new, sugar plum?" Mommy said quietly.

I shrugged. Daddy's fingers caught mine and released them from his shirt. I thought he was just going to set my hand back down, but he caught it in his and ran his thumb over the backs of my fingers. I think I understood. I raised my head and said, "You love me more than Vinnie and Natasha love Aleksi, don't you?"

Immediately, both of their eyes widened. "All parents love their babies with all of their hearts, Zofie," Mommy murmured, "You know that."

"But Aleksi's parents fight all the time, and you never do. You love each other, and you said that by the time I was born, you were ready for me."

Daddy rolled his eyes like he had meant to say that _of course that would be the one thing I picked up on._ He shifted to sit up, bringing me with him, "Sometimes people start falling out of love with each other. It's disillusionment. When Vinnie and Natasha were very young, they thought that they would be able to do everything. They moved a bit too fast into being married and having a baby without really thinking of how much they loved each other. Sometimes people don't end up loving each other as much as they think they do. Do you understand?"

I nodded. "Like Mommy and Uncle Val."

Mommy grinned, "Exactly. I do love Uncle Val, but I would shoot off my own foot before I'd marry him."

I giggled. Daddy ran his fingers slowly through my hair, "You don't have to worry about them, Zo. Vinnie and Natasha's problems are their own. Nothing for you or Aleksi to worry about."

I nodded. He guided my head to rest on his shoulder. I yawned and stuck my hand into my pocket; if Aleksi really had to finish his puzzle, he knew where to find me.


	46. Chapter Forty-Six

_Chapter Forty-Six_

After we'd put Zofie to bed, I took a seat in the closet and attempted to begin packing. With a trunk propped open at my feet, I breezed through stacks of sweatshirts and covers, the camisoles for my nice shirts, and all manner of everything in between. Reflexively, I scooped up Bram's old Belfry Prep sweatshirt and pressed it to my face while I deliberated. He hadn't worn the thing since we'd moved in, at least not to my knowledge, and his scent on it was faded from much time of reflexive clutch-and-inhale.

"The way Draculaura was talking, I don't even think smothering yourself could get you out of this," he murmured as he joined me. His arms wrapped tightly around my own, supporting my body with a tender squeeze. My eyes flickered to him, but I didn't move to respond. He took responding into his own hands, pulling something little and _electric violet_ out of the drawer beneath the alcove for our clothes. I lowered his sweatshirt from my mouth. "No."

He grinned and flicked the two pieces into the bare bottom of the trunk without a justification before proceeding to dig for my beach wrap.

"Bram, no," I pressed. He dumped my deep-pocket beach wrap into the trunk anyway.

"Don't forget that large bag of yours," he replied.

I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear and watched him. He didn't move then, either planning to pack his own bags or simply allowing me to move for my own. His shirt was still pressed to me, and he pried it gently from my hands and snapped it up as if expelling dust. He chuckled, "You kept this old thing?"

"It helps me think," I replied.

"If we dip by the sunbelt, there is no way we're not stopping at the beach." He draped the shirt over the edge of the trunk and rose, replacing where it had been in my grip with the shirt he wore as he tugged me close to him and placed a soft, warm kiss to my lips, "I'll make sure every inch of you is covered in sunscreen. I promise."

I shook my head. He sighed, picked me up and spun me around. I clung on. The stress was beyond unnerving and he sensed it without a word. He leaned his forehead to mine and kneaded my lower back. God, we had slept in the same bed long enough for him to know that when I laid down that was the place that ached. "This had better not be about that wonderful figure of yours, because I might just have to show you how much I love it all over again."

My lips twitched upward at the corners. As much as I wanted nothing more than to drop to the floor right now and have him make love to me until I had no resolve, he was coaxing it down already. Much like those first days of our relationship when the desire for nice underwear and soft nighties had given my waning self-confidence the boost it felt it needed, his touch was easing the panic that came with my rapid approach to the public eye. "You know it won't just be vampires," I murmured. "If Draculaura has her way, she'll throw me to the New York Times like...shark-nado."

He laughed. I raised my eyes to his face. He shook his head quickly to dispel any thoughts I might've formed based on his laughter, "I'm sorry, that movie was such a joke. I highly doubt Laura is that...bloodthirsty."

I laid my head on his shoulder, "I already feel like I shouldn't have agreed to this, but I need to. How else are people going to care about me or my work if they don't like me? I have to be as sociable as possible..."

He snorted again. I understood that implied comment: Me. Social. To normal people. That was a joke in itself. He ran his open palm slowly over my shoulders and tightened his hold, "We can try to make a vacation of it. Think of it as a celebration for finishing your novel and finishing the whole trouble with your parents."

"I'd rather go to Skull Shores," I murmured into his chest.

He laughed as his fingers slipped tenderly under my chin. He boosted my face toward his, his brow raised slightly in faux chastising. "Do you expect me to reward you for enduring a reward?"

I pouted playfully, "Yes, I do."

"Master is displeased."

I tried not to laugh. My fingers locked in the ends of his hair, drawing his face down to mine. "Who do you think is master here?"

He flashed me a debonair grin and smacked my backside so hard I jumped. A light chuckle slipped from his parted lips at my quick grasp of the stinging spot. I pouted legitimately, the stinging throb a welcome reminder of his superior strength. He smirked, "What, do you want me to kiss it better? I thought we were beyond this."

I stuck my tongue out. He attempted to bite it. I laughed and pushed him gently, and when he went to tickle me, I stepped back so quickly that I fell into the open trunk. He burst into laughter and scooped me from within, boosting my body in his arms like a little doll. I clung to his shoulders for dear life as he carried me to bed. Just before releasing me, he pressed his lips firmly to the bite on my neck and drew a gasp from my chest. Pleasurable aching bloomed under his lips. I clutched handfuls of his shirt against his shoulders as he fell atop me, nestling against me as he bathed my tender former wound in kisses. I squirmed, only for the action to be dissuaded by a firm, harsh bite. It was the first time he had bitten me since that night- a real, rough, vampiric bite. My breath released and I sunk into the mattress, finally at peace. He was my support. His muscles tense, supporting mine as they went limp from the sheer bliss of having the liquid life in my veins drained. For the first time all day, I was truly calm.

He scooped me up and laid my head softly on the pillows. His lips pressed to the entry wound softly until the bleeding subsided, replaced with a trembling in my fingers that felt like vulnerability. The sensual touch didn't stop there. It continued across my neck once healed, blood-dampened lips brushing down to my collarbone and up the other side. My head rolled as if it had no support on my neck, even against the pillows. With him over me, it was safe to breathe.

He sunk onto the mattress beside me and traced little patterns on my stomach through my shirt. He curled around me, protective as a sentry, his arm gently boosting my head as it slipped beneath me. I watched the beautiful flickers of contentment in his eyes, brewing so softly beneath the surface like swaying flame. "I promise this will not be that bad. We are going to use this trip to our advantage."

I traced his jaw slowly with the knuckle of my index finger, "Like that trip from Maine to Salem?"

He grinned, "I could think of a lot more time we could've gotten alone had Vinnie and Natasha not been along, but...something like that."

I smiled as he toyed with my hair, "We do have Zofie."

"Ah, yes, but she goes to bed early...and while baby is away, Mommy and Daddy can play..." His eyes glinted with mischief as he rolled on top of me. I laughed, slipping my arms around his back while he tugged my shirt's hem up slowly. He ran his fingers over my sides worshipfully, drawing a contented sigh from my lips. His pressed tenderly to my forehead, "I don't want you forgetting how much I love you. You are not invincible, and you damn well can't lie well enough to hide it." I buried my face in the crook of his neck, tenderly kissing his vulnerable skin. His breath hitched, causing him to falter for a moment before he exhaled against my ear, "I will always be right next to you, no matter how many others you have by your side."

Zofie was our princess, but I was his queen. My fingers tangled in his hair, keeping him close to me. I closed my eyes and forced myself to only breathe against his skin, lest I get emotional. Each passage of new air to my lips brought the scent of him, so vibrant that it was a taste itself; he tasted as his blood tasted, with purity beyond his ability. It was unfair such a tender creature, so ill-equipped for the fate he was handled, would have to be plagued with the fear of demons that were not his own.

His tender touch traced my hair in return. Very gently, he rolled the both of us onto our sides to allow the both of us better chance to breathe. I squeezed him with as much force as I could without becoming painful. He was the last, golden rays of sun streaking through my life before the darkness engulfed me, and he had been there for long enough to seem like a permanent fixture in it. I had tasted the darkness myself, though bittersweet it must've been better for me than it ever could've been to him.

"Keep indulging me this way," he murmured as he returned the gentle squeeze, "I'm growing so addicted to you. Not a thing on this earth would be able to keep me away."

"Has it ever?" I murmured, placing a tender kiss to his steady pulse.

It was slow, so painfully slow. Mine kept its pace and yet quivered, a leaf before the rays of sun.

"Not in heaven, not in earth," he murmured, "nor anything between."

"How about hell?" I commented lightly.

He laughed. It was a genuine laugh, free from the fear it had held before. "Least of all hell," he murmured. "Besides, they call women evil...wanton creatures born of sin, embodying sin...if I'm to believe anything, than I believe hell gave you me. And I would quite gratefully fall from grace so long as it meant having you for the rest of my existence."

I caught his chin and pressed his lips to mine. "Oh, you devious creature," I purred, "If there was ever a saint quite like you, I'd be happy to throw him beneath me and corrupt him."

"Show me a good time," he murmured teasingly, stealing another kiss.

We laughed together, his chuckle softer than the airy giggle that burst so vividly from my mouth. He was the painted color in a world once so gray. We laid intertwined for quite some time, listening to the soft sounds of insects outside and roaming wildlife. Our little one, asleep so near, a constant reminder of everything we built upon this ground.

"An empire greater than Rome," he whispered as if he read my mind. I lifted my eyes as his fell to me. "I was just thinking, you and I have quite a bit of notoriety. Some could say we might even have an empire."

I laid my head against his chest with a shrug, "I don't care for an empire. I care for you."


	47. Chapter Forty-Seven

_Chapter Forty-Seven_

"I'm telling you, I have no idea what to bring," I insisted as Draculaura slapped down a list of my quote-unquote necessities. A lot of them were pretty much crap, all things considered. "Are we taking your family's plane?" I asked as I slid it back.  
She rose a brow, "No, we're taking a train. Or did you forget?"  
I sighed, "La, this is the least practical idea that's been hatched in a century-"  
Snapping the paper back into her hands, she folded it and rolled her eyes. "Why are you being so difficult?"

I had a myriad of reasons that she probably wouldn't have attempted to understand. My best friend could be the biggest of princesses; that came to no greater shock than my own, especially considering how she'd been in high school. She paced across the hardwood of the main room, trailing onto a carpet and trailing off like a jungle cat stalking prey. "It's going to have all modern conveniences," she replied, like that mattered. "You'll save a ton of money, actually, because if you don't want to leave the train for more than your interviews and your signings, you don't have to."

I inhaled slowly. It was a tantalizing prospect; no rushing to catch flights. No crowded hotels. I didn't have to step off in the big city for more than a few hours. "And you'll have cars at every stop?" I asked. "Guards on board?"

"Of course," she murmured. "A lot of our arrivals will be dead-of-night affairs, I've tried to make it as comfortable for you as possible. Gory, come on! You're on the brink of being a star! Embrace it!"

I was a star who owned centuries worth of clothes and had absolutely no idea what to wear. I hated people and I was terrified of change. This was going to blow up in my face, I knew it. Some things were more inevitable than others. I'd always had a feeling that I was going to let her down someday, and up until this whole trip had been orchestrated, I always thought that day had been when she was kidnapped by Van Hellscream and trapped in the catacombs with her friends. A little piece of me still blanched at that. How many deaths could've been at my hands for nothing? How many still were? She knew I was thinking too much and snapped her fingers in front of my face to draw me back, "Gory."

Sometimes I was very glad Laura had the potential to be such a diva. I released my nerves with a slow breath that curled my lips up into a smirk, "You're not having enough sex, are you?"

She spluttered and swatted my arm. I held my silence, trying not to smile too much at her increasingly amusing floundering for words. "My sex life is none of your business," she finally said, as if she were bursting at the seams to get the words out.

"You'd be a lot less of a pain in the ass if Clawd took better care of it," I teased.

"He takes plenty good care of it! I-but-you're a mother, Gory!"

Laughter bubbled out uncontrollably. "Yes, so I've obviously had my goes around the track. NASCAR up there just keeps going, even after the race is over."

The shade of pink she was turning was not healthy for a vampire or a human. "Are you going to just talk about your sex life when someone asks?"

"Should I be prepared for these questions?" I teased. Playing coy very rarely worked with Bram, but Draculaura fell for it without second guess. She shook her head and placed her fingers to her temples, continuing to pace like I was a naughty child under her reprimand.

"You need to be prepared for all kinds of things." She paused to look at me, her exotic eyes darker after having progressively returned to her sanguine diet.

"Isn't the Boy Scouts thing more of your husband's deal?"

She shot me a look intended to peel paint. From her, it wasn't even vaguely threatening. I leaned on my elbow and traced one of the holes in the knee of my pants, "Come on, be my best friend. Come pack with me. We'll handle Zofie's next."

As I stood, I thought for a moment that she might not come. She wasn't my boss, but she was most of the reason for my success, and it had gone highly recommended by everyone but her father not to involve friends in business. Her hands fell from her temples and like the good friend she was, she trailed me up the stairs. "I swear to god, if I see one thing that could be mistaken for medieval torture wear..."

We went straight to my closet, and she looked down at the meager packing I'd done with open shock. Surely she anticipated more diversity in my wardrobe at the very least, every single outlandish thing that I owned at worst. I had packed one of my simplistic Victorian brocade blouses, the swimsuit and cover Bram had tossed in the night before, his Belfry Prep sweatshirt, a pair of black pants and a black and purple pinstripe sundress with a tiny bow on the shoulder. Immediately, she flashed over to my tights and produced my lacy pair to go with the dress, "This needs ankle boots."

Relief flooded my chest. I wrapped my arms tightly around her slender shoulders and gave her a tight squeeze, "I love you."

"I know," she replied, "You need me."

As rarely as I said it out loud, I really did. I needed her as much as I needed Bram. The both of them were the strings that kept my sanity from toppling over like the leaning tower of Pisa. They were the architects that went underground to keep me from falling. She went through my closet, tugging open a drawer and immediately going red, "Oh."

I blushed too, "His idea."

"I see," she replied. "And how do you feel about this?"

"They're nice," I admitted. She picked up the lacy red ones and flung them into my suitcase by her fingertips. I hadn't even touched them since they'd been washed and tucked away for something I deemed a special occasion, yet she treated them like they held remnants of the plague. I sighed, passing her and tugging open the drawer beside it. I produced a lacy red nightie to go with it, making her face turn the same color. "Oh, he'll like that."

"He does."

We both jumped at the purr from the doorway. Draculaura went red; I could tell she had immediately jumped to floundering for more words that she didn't need. I draped it delicately into my luggage and innocently turned to my husband. He regarded the few more things packed with muted appreciation. He tugged one of his larger suitcases off the upper shelf, "How long do you intend this trip to be, Draculaura?"

She swallowed, "Two weeks?"

"Lovely. We'll have plenty of time left afterward to keep making our plans." He cracked open his suitcase, obviously intending to pack at the same time, "So, darling, should I bring something nice to join you?"

"Should I be here?" Draculaura whispered to neither of us in particular.

I shrugged, "You are helping me pack, aren't you? Why don't you tell him if he's to accompany me or not."

"It would be a good idea..." She looked at him, potentially hoping that he didn't bring out anything hugely sexual like discovering my underwear had. Having her married off had left her at the boundary of being very, very used to playing her father's innocent little girl and very, very ready to embrace the new freedom that being liberated from her family name was surely granting her. I ran my fingers over a long, nice red sweater and decided against bringing the Belfry Prep one. It was hot enough. Too many long sleeves was a bad idea. I dropped in pajama pants and continued, piece by piece setting a wardrobe together. The new red dress went in, along with a few corsets. I know I'd promised Paul I would stop wearing them, but at the sight of them, Bram's eyes lit up. I could feel it across the room. There probably wasn't a more greatly sensual thing to him than tugging it off my body in a heated frenzy. I think Draculaura could tell.

"I can cut the sexual tension in this room with a butter knife." I'd broken their silence and somehow, their tension. Draculaura went for the door, looking at me with an expression based in chastity, purity and _I am leaving you to your own husband, do not bring me into this._ I shook my head and folded a short-sleeved shirt to tuck in with the rest of the clothes. It was difficult to match outfits under pressure.

The distance between us closed rather quickly once Laura had left. He traced my hair slowly off my neck, twisting it into a gentle bun around his fingers. "I don't think I like the idea of waiting until we're going cross-country with our daughter in tow to play with those." His tone, as tender as could be, sent chills up my spine.

"Are you sure you can go two weeks without?" I murmured, attempting to tease without stirring his interest too much.

"I never said I was going two weeks without," he replied, "I just said that I'd rather do the real playing here."

The thought struck me rather sharply; Valentine was lucky if he was with a girl for more than eleven weeks. We had been together for eleven years and he still lusted after me like we were teenagers newly introduced to a co-ed dorm. He nibbled the back of my neck teasingly, making me laugh. "What's so funny?" he murmured into my ear, placing a soft kiss to the pointed tip.

"After all this time...we still want each other. A lot of people would be lucky to be us."

He laughed, tugging my hair gently until I turned to him. My arms slid instinctively around his neck, our eyes meeting on reflex. If I had the ability to blush at his gaze, I would. The amount of utter devotion and adoration in his eyes was almost painful; sometimes I didn't think my heart had the capacity to endure that much love.  
"You have made me the happiest man on earth. I don't think I could ever turn you away."

I kissed him. The door creaked open, and both of our ears perked to the sound, yet he didn't break away right away. He waited, his lips pressed warmly to my own, until the tiny footsteps nearly reached us. Then he broke away and turned, grabbing a handful of his shirts and proceeding to toss them, one by one, at Zofie as she peeked around the corner. She shouted in delight and ran over to him, "I've never seen such beautiful shirts!"

"I've taught you well," I laughed. He scooped her up, pressing her tiny body close to his chest and kissing her forehead warmly. She laughed, clinging to his shirt, "Aleksi stole back his puzzle piece without waking me up."

"Ah, well little boys have a tendency to steal from little girls who live in their houses." He glanced to me and I stuck my tongue out in reply, "The only thing you stole from me was my food."  
He rolled his eyes, boosting her slightly as she clung to him. "Where's Rainy?"

She shrugged, "Doing Rainy stuff?"

"Maybe Mogli ought to get herself back here. If we're going on a trip, there's no way I'm leaving her alone in this house for two weeks-"

"Vinnie and Natasha will be here, it'll be fine," I replied.

"Yes, but so will their ward." The amount of implied venom in his voice made me grin. I folded a white blouse with black ruffled sleeves and turned to them, kissing Zofie's forehead before kissing his, "You're just worried he might steal her virtue."

"Rain thinks virtues are dumb," Zofie immediately interjected. "She thinks like you."

"Yes, well, your mother and I gave up our virtues to each other long ago. We'll explain it further some other day, but it's a very delicate thing that must only be done with someone you intend to spend the rest of your life with."

Immediately, she caught on and rolled her eyes. For his sake, I was incredibly happy she didn't confirm her thoughts. She simply kissed his cheek and shrugged, "She likes Charlie, Daddy. She's not gonna run off and marry him."

He paused for a moment, glancing down to her and holding her gaze, "Zofie, where did your cousin go?"

Her eyes went wide before flickering to an expression of innocence. He passed her to me and released a sigh, "I'm going to need you to pretend you don't know anything about this, because they're going to find his body in a few days."

I sighed. There would be no deterring him once he'd gotten going; I could only hope that he was educated enough to cover his tracks. "Wear gloves, try to make sure you won't be seen."


	48. Chapter Forty-Eight

_Chapter Forty-Eight_

It was the sharp slam of a car door that awoke Charlie from his deep slumber. It was around the front of the house, and judging by the amount of people passed out in the backyard of the rather quaint "mansion" of a house on the border of the human half of town, he knew he'd have about thirty seconds to wake himself up enough to high-tail it. The problem, he immediately realized, was that his companion was absolutely nowhere to be found. For a moment, he hoped she'd fled, and he rose to do just that when he was wrenched off his feet and slammed violently into the whitewashed stone exterior. Before he could cry out, he was met with a pair of threatening ruby eyes promising brutality. "Where is she?" Bram snarled, less than two inches from his face. Despite being a vampire himself, the closeness to the razor sharp fangs that he knew for a fact could rip flesh from bone without so much as a hitch made Charlie wary to respond. Bram's hold tightened, asphyxiating the younger male momentarily. Sheer terror filled his eyes and snapped his hands up to the older male's, his lips parting in a silent plea for air. As quickly as the hold tightened, it grudgingly released to allow him to breathe. "Where is Rain?"

"I don't know," Charlie admitted, sucking in the air habitually. Of course he hadn't needed it, but the action was reflex. Cutting off that reflex invoked panic. He was aware of his being lifted only momentarily before he was physically airborne, and crashing suddenly into the marble stairs. A sharp cry of pain passed his lips as they collided with his back, and he scrambled up them in hopes to lose his pursuer quickly, to no avail. The air barely stirred as he was passed and promptly grabbed by his collar, halted in his momentum, paused at the top of the stairs. He knew instantly that should Bram release him, he would likely topple backward and cause himself serious injury. He grabbed his wrist, begging with his eyes, "Bram, come on. Please. Please, you helped raise me, come on, you know I'd never hurt Rainy."

"You disobeyed me," he hissed, "_She_ disobeyed me, and you encouraged her. She's a child, Charles! She's not native to this country! And you took her out on an escapade around an unfamiliar city where she could be lost, or killed, or worse! Do you think with your head at all, boy?!"

He swallowed, eyes growing glassy as they brimmed with tears. Bram tugged him up and pushed him away, letting him topple backward into the railing rather than falling down to the floor below. A relieved exhale passed the air from the younger vampire's lungs, and even though he would've loved to make a break for the bathroom, he followed Bram in his pursuit. Vaguely, he caught scent of her perfume and mildly hoped it wasn't a remnant. "Okay, look, she wasn't doing anything. She was more sober than me, and I know it was a stupid idea, but..." His unbeating heart skipped when he was granted no response. He darted around the corner to find a room of people, some monster, some not, most at least partially undressed, resembling a harem. Bram's eyes held the fury of ancient gods. He stepped over a topless, still-sleeping human girl and jostled the doorknob to the bathroom. Charlie held his bladder and his breath. To no real surprise, the sound didn't wake the sleeping creatures. He also wasn't surprised when the elder vampire drew back and cracked the door entirely off its hinges and its lock. It fell to the floor with a thump, still not stirring anyone else. For a moment, he forgot their search entirely and jumped over the girl to rush to the available toilet. He paused on instinct as he heard a nearly silent hiss, and a very tender, feminine whimper.

"Rainy," Bram murmured tenderly, brushing her curls off her face. She looked like she'd seen a hell of a night; her lower lip was split and caked in dried blood that ran down to her chin, and part of her face was bruised. The cuts associated with having a bottle smashed into her upper left arm still sat open as she slept in the tub, roused by his tender tone. He nudged her softly, "Rainy."

"_Ah fuckin' A,"_ she slurred, still sounding very much the drunken Irish that she'd gone to bed as, "My fuckin' head is killin' me!"

Whether he was her responsible guardian or not, Bram couldn't help but laugh. He scooped her tenderly out of the bathtub and cradled her to his chest, "Shh...you can go back to sleep."

"Ah no I can't!" she suddenly gasped, kicking his arms aside and throwing herself down near the toilet. Immediately, all of the liquor in her stomach returned to haunt her. Without much introduction, Charlie rushed past to grab her hair before she was able to throw up in it. One hand clutched her stomach as the other clutched the edge of the toilet, her stomach heaving violently. Charlie made a face, turning away from the sight. An awkward moment of listening to her vomit passed before he began humming, attempting a little jig to distract from his increasing urgency.

"Will ya knock it off?!" she snapped between gasps of breath before the second wave of her hangover hit with a vengeance.

"I have to pee!" Charlie shouted, "It's not my fault you're puking in the only toilet I know is safe!"

"Quit bein' a baby," she rasped. He looked to Bram and released her hair, turning to unzip his pants. With an irritated sigh, she pushed off the rim and staggered up to the sink. He flushed quickly before switching places with her, drawing her attention. "Charlie, are ya all there upstairs?"

"Shh," he replied. It was only when she flicked on the faucet that he started to go. She tried not to laugh as she rinsed out her mouth and rifled around in the drawer for an unopened toothbrush.

"It's time to go, Rainy," Bram said, attempting to keep his tone gentle on her sensitive ears. She brushed her teeth and left the toothbrush on the edge. Her eyes were red and bleary, but she nodded and staggered off after him. Charlie hurried to finish, but as Bram's arm draped over his cousin's shoulder, he threw a look back at the young man who had gotten her into the ordeal. "Don't bother catching up, Charles. You're not welcome in my car, in my home, or around Rain again."

"Bram-" he said, his tone pleading.

"Your problems are your own, child, and you are not mine." With a gentle nudge, he led Rain down the stairs and out to his car. She paused in confusion for a moment before slipping into the passenger seat, "This isn't the hearse..."

"It's an Austin Healey. This one is mine, the hearse is officially Gory's."

She nodded, bringing her knees up to her chest and sinking against the soft, well-loved leather. Her eyes closed, the breeze stirring her hair as they pulled away. It was a convertible, and the sun was beaming lovingly down upon her still-sunscreen-coated skin.

"So, how exactly did that come about?" he asked, attempting to keep his tone conversational, though the implication of malice lingered in a furious undertone.

She shrugged, her eyelids heavy, "Some bitch tried t' make moves on Charlie...we had out with each other by the pool. Smashed her head in...some guy dragged her off t' go to the hospital."

"And how did you end up in the bathtub?"

She shrugged, "Prob'ly went to pee and didn't leave."

"Probably?" The increasing fury in his tone only brought her closer to sleep. They were forced to stop at a red light, to which he smacked her legs down from the seat and jarred her awake rather violently, "_Probably?_"

"Ah Bram," she sighed, "Probably. I had a couple drinks, I don't remember all of it."

"You're too young to be drinking!" he nearly shouted.

"I'm two hundred an...some! I'm perfectly legal to drink and have sex as I please!"

"If you hadn't just lost the contents of your stomach to alcohol, I'd take you home and bend you over the garage basin to wash your mouth out with dish soap."

She shifted away from him, an exasperated sigh passing her lips. Propping her elbow up on the door, she glanced to him and rested her head on her hand, "When are ya gonna stop treating me like a child?"

"When you don't look like you're thirteen and a half!" he snapped. "For Christ's sake, there is nothing about you that remotely allows for the consumption of alcohol, the brawling over boys, going to parties, sneaking off, any of it! This is not the Rain your mother raised, I know that for a fact. What would she say to you? What would Gaelin or Liam or Brandon say to you?"

"That I'm justified!" she snapped in reply. "I'm not a kid!"

"The moment you stop acting like a child will be the moment I stop treating you like one. Sneaking off to a sleazy party with these half-credit posers in the cattle country does not make you look like an adult, it makes me feel like I should've sent you home with the rest of them."

She turned away from him, refusing to speak for the rest of their return trip. It had been a low blow, he knew, but it was a low blow she deserved. As they pulled into the garage, she hissed, "I did it, and it wasn't with Charlie."

Had he not loved his car more, he would've let off the break in shock. She stepped out, shutting the door gently and going inside. He sat there for only a heartbeat before wrenching out his keys and slamming the button down to shut the door. He caught her within the main room and grabbed her arm, "What the hell were you thinking?! Who the hell ever told you it was a smart thing to go off screwing around with boys twice your age?!"

"They're younger than me!" she screamed.

"You're a fucking _child_, Rain, they're physically older than you! They've done things with other people!"

"So?!"

"_So_, I know I can't expect you to have sense enough to be safe! _So_, I know I want you to get back in that car, because I'm taking you off to a doctors to get you properly examined for diseases that you could pick up from those...those underling monkey _sheep!"_

She wrenched her arm in his grip, pushing on his hold like a child struggling to get free. She stamped her feet and tried to withhold the sob bubbling from her lips. "Ya don't know nothin'! Lemme go, ya don't know nothin'!"

"I'd let you go play in traffic first," he growled as he picked her up by force. She screamed and kicked, struggling until he was forced to set her down. By then, I had emerged to see what was wrong, and she ran to me with furious tears streaming down her face. Her arms flung around my torso and she buried her face into my shoulder. In the state she was in, even I assumed the worst. I clutched her to my chest and kissed the top of her head while she sobbed.

"What's going on?" I addressed them both.

Bram looked at me with absolute fury burning in his eyes, "I'm taking Rain back out, and then I'm calling Sean to come get her. She's going home before we leave, whether she likes it or not."

"No!" she screamed, clutching my shirt, "Ye don't understand! Gory, tellum, please! He doesn't understand!"

I pressed her close to me, attempting to stroke her hair but only succeeding in getting my fingers tangled in the mess of curls. "Christ, she looks like she's been through the mill. What happened, Rain?"

My husband turned away, exhaling in a mixture of exasperation and pure, genuine rage. "That little trollop niece of mine decided to let Charlie cart her out to a party last night _on the other side of town_, get _completely wasted, have sex and get into a brawl with some girl who she might've killed._ Did I miss anything, Rainy dear? Oh yes, _the boy wasn't even Charles!_"

Whether it was her tears soaking into my shirt or the absolute tear between pity and disappointment in my chest, something clicked into place. I wrapped her in my arms and guided her toward the door myself.

"Where are you going?" he sighed, his tone softening slightly.

"I'm taking her. Obviously you can't control yourself enough to deal with the problems of being a woman-"

"Gory-" he tried to interject, letting his arms fall in exasperation.

"I will have no slut-shaming in my house, not from a guest and least of all from you." He paused, seeming to relent a bit. I wrapped Rain in one of my lighter sweaters and nudged her back toward the garage. She went obediently, still crying silently. I stood in the door without my keys, my fingers trembling in fury. I wanted to cross the room and slap him. "One day, she's going to be old enough for a boyfriend and I don't want to hear that you chased him away. One day, Zofie is going to be old enough too. This is what happens, Bram, when the good men are chased away girls always go to the bad ones."

"If he were anything of a man, he wouldn't have left her alone," he replied.

I shook my head. I didn't have the strength to carry out my comments. I went back for my keys and went to go, but when he caught my arm I felt my resolve crumble. He touched my chin, guiding my face upward with the most tender of touches. It still felt somehow like a prison sentence. "You did not see my mother's face when I told her I intended to marry you for the first time," I whispered. "She laughed at me. I didn't know she was screwing around with Valentine's father before, but you know what, it all makes sense. And I'm not about to let that little girl go through problems caused by a boy." He released my arm. I ran my fingers over my keys and found the courage to add to my comment, just enough to drive it home. "Not even if the boy is you."

I had never seen him so astounded or so hurt. It was an expression to be imprinted forever in my mind. I went out to the hearse and helped Rainy inside, taking note that he didn't follow me. It was the first time that I had gone to leave and he hadn't followed to watch me go. My fingers trembled as I started the ignition; I hope he knew that any comment toward him hurt me twice what it hurt him. I loved him too much to live with the pain of hurting him. I hadn't even left the driveway before tears of my own streaked down my cheeks, but I somehow kept them calm. There was nothing less productive than an open cry, especially in front of someone who didn't need to see it.


	49. Chapter Forty-Nine

_Chapter Forty-Nine_

_I know, I know, I'm on a roll today. Three in one day. Anyway, I wanted to pause a moment to acknowledge with all the sorrow in my heart the passing of Corey Montieth. Any gleeks out there who need a shoulder, I share your pain. My inboxes are always open. Rest in peace man._

The sear in my chest hadn't alleviated with her out of the house. It only grew until I forced myself to leave in her wake. That was how I ended up in the gym where Clawd worked on occasion, beating the fear of the unknown into the punching bag with wrapped fists.

What was I supposed to do, just let Rain off the hook? How was everything I did suddenly wrong? I hadn't tried to put any shame into her, but if she felt that way it had good reason. I hadn't actually intended to ship her off to Ireland, or even call Sean, just make her realize that it was a possibility. Damn it, some days Gory was too much to handle. It should've been celestially impossible to have found the error of our old ways as thoroughly as she had. No, she surrounded herself with good people and she made something so beautiful and so flawless and so heartbreakingly good even better. It was as if I had somehow stolen all of the wrong from her. How was she even remotely so just? How did she get horrified when she was able to do the things she'd done?

The punching bag's handle snapped and it flew off, smacking into the wall like a body. Like Charlie's body, when he was flung into the steps... How did I have the capacity to do that? He was right, Vinnie and I were the only father figures the boy remembered. Vinnie was less than ideal for one, I knew that even on a bad day. It just hadn't mattered. It just hadn't mattered in the moment that I screamed at Rain until she cried, or that she was seriously hurt and I had cared more about telling her not to get herself hurt again than tend to the wounds. In all my fury, I had damaged the things I loved the most.

I balled my fists and stared at the reflection of my wrapped hands in the mirror. I had been dominant, I had been violent with her before, when I was possessed I had nearly killed her. But she had never shook in my presence until today. She had been afraid to voice her thoughts to me, and that submissive look...with her hands shaking in mine...had she thought that I would hurt her? Punching the mirror would've made me feel better. It would've put new, livid pain in my hands and given me an accurate punishment for my actions. The thought crossed my mind that if she could hear it, she would cry out in fear, and it forced me to sink to the mats in forced silence. I didn't have the strength to relinquish my control, not anymore, but had I really gone so far that I was out of control even when I thought I was in it?

There was a tender, nearly-silent step on the edge of the mat. My breath caught, and I rose my head slowly in hopes that a more obvious action wouldn't scare her away. I had known it was her, even before I caught the scent of her rosy perfume. She paused anyway, lovely eyes wide behind her glasses. I wasn't wearing a shirt, just my pants, and I was covered in sweat. How long I'd gone at that bag was beyond me, but it must've been quite some time. She looked like she had calmed down, save for the deer-in-headlights look in her eyes. It hurt like nothing else to see her that way.

It melted away and she came to me, kneeling beside me, wiping my damp hair from my face. Her tender, beautiful fingers traced my face and my traitorous eyes released their tears. Her lips parted in shock. I cupped her hands to my cheeks, entrusting her to feel the flush of my skin. She drew them back slowly, allowing me to bring my lips to her palms and kiss them worshipfully. "I'm sorry," I breathed into her hands. "I'm so sorry."

She ran her fingers through my hair and smiled so warmly, as if I'd done nothing wrong. "She's alright. She's no more worse for wear than either of us. And...apparently, it was Charlie after all. And he's not as stupid as you might think he is."

It should've given me some relief, but it didn't. I tugged her closer, pressing her body into mine. She wrapped her arms around my neck, obliging me with all the softness of her figure tucked into my chest. I ran my fingers through her silky hair, twisting locks around my fingers. Her soft lips pressed to my neck, "Did she really make you that angry?"

"No," I murmured. "I was never angry at either of you, just...the situation."

She nodded in understanding before withdrawing to sit, folded delicately on her knees. "Why did you feel like you had to apologize to me? You didn't do anything wrong."

Her hands were still tucked in my own. They were so much smaller than my own. It almost felt surprising to have that revelation, even though she was obviously so much more delicate in appearance than she really was. Her fingers traced mine before interlacing, a tiny smile of reassurance on her lips. She shifted, curling into my chest as if she knew how badly I needed the contact. I pressed her close to my traitorously aching heart and murmured, "I frightened you."

"You always frighten me," she teased.

"You were shaking," I whispered. "I have never scared you like that...and it makes me sick to think I did."

She turned her beautiful face upward to mine and shook her head slowly, "No. I wasn't afraid of you, I was angry with you. But I'm not anymore. I love you too much to be angry with you." She pressed a kiss to my chest and curled herself against me. As much as I was sure she would've appreciated a lack of the evidence of my workout, she didn't seem to mind too much. "We've both calmed down. If you have too, I'd be more than happy to follow you home."

I tangled my fingers in her hair gently, "I want to clean up before I get back in the Healey."

She nodded, but at the gentle descent of my lips to hers, she whispered "oh" just before they connected. It never ceased to amaze me how a creature as delicate in appearance could be as hard as she had the capacity to be, then turn around a moment later and relent it all in softness. I laid back, guiding her onto my chest. Her elegant nails traced up my shoulders until her hands cupped my face once again. The removal of her lips from mine was like breaking an intoxicated haze; I sighed in discontent.

"I'm sorry about what I said," she whispered. "You know I didn't mean it."

"I do." I caught her hands tenderly and brought them away from me to clasp between my own. "You are the singularly most important thing in the world to me. I want you to know that always. Zofie is the only other thing in this world I care for as much as I care for you."

"Rain?" she murmured.

I shrugged, "I didn't watch you carry her for nine months, I really couldn't care less sometimes."

She swatted my shoulder tenderly and shook her head, "Get up and get yourself cleaned up. I'll meet you at home." As she rose, she stole my shirt from the bench. I rose a brow, watching that little, wicked smile cross her lips. The little minx was toying with me, as usual. "You can have this when you get back."

...

Like any other darkness-inclined teenager, Rain had the recently disbanded _My Chemical Romance _blaring from her stereo and audible within a five foot range of her room from any direction. Rising paternal instinct wanted me to begin my introduction with a sharply-worded _turn it down,_ yet I restrained the thought and tapped at her door with a little more force than necessary.

She put the music on pause and opened the door, only to attempt to shut it in my face once again. I forced it open, resisting the urge to roll my eyes as I looked down at her. "That is also not very mature of you."

She took a deep breath to compose herself. She looked much better than she had this morning; I assumed Gory had gotten her a myriad of painkillers, both natural and pharmaceutical, to aid the return to a state of normalcy.  
"I'm still incredibly pissed off at you," she said, enunciating every word to make them come off American.

"As am I at you," I replied. "Can I come in?"

"I don't know, can you?" She blocked my way. I was very tempted to push the door out of her hands, but I shrugged. "You may not have made the best decisions, but from what I hear, Charles has. My forgiveness is limited. He is no longer barred from contacting you, but you are grounded to this house until I feel like letting you go out again. If you disobey me and run off again, you can relinquish your house key, because you will be his responsibility. Do you understand me?"

She looked at the floor, but nodded. I caught her curly head and pressed a firm kiss to it, "You're very lucky that I like that boy as much as I do, or I might've just dumped a bucket of your first lover's blood over your head and made you bathe in it."

She smiled, but I smirked as if I'd seen it done, immediately unnerving her. "Goodnight, Rain."

Gory waited at the end of the hall, her arms crossed across her chest in an unintentionally eye catching boost of her breasts. I opened my arms for her, pressing her close and kissing her firmly upon embracing her. "I'm proud of you," she murmured.

"Do you want to know what I'm proud of?" I murmured. Her eyes widened slightly as if she anticipated what I implied. I lifted her completely off the floor and carried her down the hall to our bedroom, her arms linked around my neck. "Are you implying that I've put on weight?"

I leaned in and murmured, "I haven't shown you yet. I'm just saving your energy to do it."

Her cheeks flushed vibrantly. I paused outside Zofie's room, listening to the hum of her new aquarium and the her and her playmate's giggles at the sight of the frog splashing about within it. "At least it's an aquatic frog," she murmured, her hold on my neck tightening a bit.

I met her eyes. "I think she needs a baby brother. For when Aleksi moves out."

Her eyes went wide, "You...really think now would be a good time?"

"It's as good a time as any."

The expression in her eyes went from limitlessly happy and in love to irrevocably joyful. Her eyes teared ever so slightly and she curled a bit more closely into me, "We're really going to actively have to try. You know how hard it is for our kind..."

"I know," I murmured. "You and I make magic every day. Might as well add another ankle-biter to our list of accomplishments."

That smile, so soft and so bright, absolutely completed the need for joy I'd had within me. "When did we get so domesticated?" she murmured teasingly in an attempt not to cry.

I shrugged and kissed her soft lips tenderly, "Whenever it made you happy."


	50. Chapter Fifty

_Chapter Fifty_

"Don't worry about anything," Natasha soothed as Bram took our bags onto the passenger train. It was straight out of the Old West, a large, black, iron brute with a billow of white smoke trickling from the pipe at its peak. It looked as if it could destroy any car that dare cross the tracks in front of its mighty grates. Zofie toyed with the hem of my dress, wrapping it around herself like a white lace shawl. I smoothed her hair. Aleksi stood awkwardly at his mother's side, staring at her feet in her shiny, polished shoes.

"I don't," I replied. "If I did, I wouldn't have left you and Vinnie in charge while we were away. Just...don't forget Sammy and Sabby, and keep Rainy inside..." It was hard to process the basic instruction, even though she knew them as well as I. She caught my hand and held it tightly in her own. There was a slightly blue sheen to her skin, much like Vinnie's. It was a pattern of mechanical work and raw living that hadn't yet reached their son. I squeezed her bony fingers in my own and whispered, "And eat. For me."

She laughed. The hand resting on Aleksi's shoulder lifted as she stepped forward to embrace me. I clung to her tightly. I was in a white dress with patterns of lace that cascaded completely downward to a long, lace hem that brushed the earth. One of the rings Bram had gotten me in our early courtship hung on a delicate silver chain around my neck, the little blue stone contrasting with the dress nicely. My sandals were simple, as were Natasha's. We'd travel up to Portland and then up to Seattle, head across the mountains and the valley and into the Middle West. We might dip South, but major cities were Draculaura's forte. I hadn't wanted to make the trip long and neither did she; she was a newlywed, after all. Being away from Clawd, even for a day, seemed like torment to her, or so she claimed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Aleksi put a puzzle piece in my daughter's hands and pull her in for a tight hug. They were both so tiny and so sure. She hugged him back around his chubby little waist and kissed his cheek, "Insurance policy?"

He nodded. Natasha gave me a final squeeze and gently grasped him away. I scooped Zofie into my arms and started for the train. Vinnie hopped down from the space between the cars and grasped Bram's hand like they were brothers. "Take care of these girls, Devein. Don't lose them anywhere."

"I wouldn't come home without them," he replied. I passed Zofie to him, waiting for him to set her down on the platform before taking his hand and hoisting myself up. He smiled as he glanced over my dress and returned his eyes to Vinnie, "Take care of everything. If I see one marker that my car's been taken out, I'm coming after your Impala."

"Swear on my life," Vinnie saluted.

I tugged open the heavy door and allowed Zofie inside, and instantly both of our breath was taken away. The train to The Capitol in the Hunger Games had absolutely nothing on this, and I was going to squeeze the life out of Draculaura as soon as I saw her. Our carpet resembled velvet. Our walls, a timid canary yellow with brilliant vermilion paisley. Our curtains, burgundy and sun-resistant. They matched the carpet in color, texture and softness. Immediately, I removed my sandals and reveled in the sensation. As far as I could tell, there was one train seat, and it was in a luxurious, soft black leather against one wall. A king-sized bed took up the far corner by a heavily bolted door, sealed shut with welding. One entrance in and out, reinforced windows...a mahogany desk, potentially doubling as an eating space. A smaller bed sat against the opposite wall, potentially Zofie's, should she decide not to stay with us. My trunk, Bram's suitcases and Zofie's bags were stacked in the empty space between the bed and benches. I peeked out from behind the curtains to watch my best friend embrace her husband tightly and kiss him as if she never planned to see him again. He went along with it wholeheartedly, her round, pink suitcase clutched to her lower back. Zofie climbed up on my trunk to see and giggled.

"It's nice," Bram commented. He sunk into one of the seats appreciatively and sighed, "This is...I'm surprised there's no TV."

"We have computers, and I'm sure she outfitted it with wifi at the very least." I wouldn't have put it past her to install wifi in her own blood if she knew it made me happy.

He shrugged. Zofie hopped down and went to examine the beds herself. I waited for her, watching every stolen kiss as he walked her to our car. When she disappeared from sight, I let the curtain fall and went to collect her bags. Bram beat me to his feet, though, and slipped past me to collect the last passenger for our journey. With nothing to do but unpack, I found myself sinking onto the bed myself. It was very soft, like everything else. I heard the boys' exchanges in a murmur, muffled by an inch or more of solid metal, but I didn't strain to hear. Zofie crawled onto the bed beside me and wrapped herself in my arms.

"I like your dress, Mama," she said softly as she laid on my lap. I smoothed her skirt softly, "I like yours too, my little darling doll."

She smiled and buried her perfect little face into my legs. Draculaura climbed in with us, her eyes glowing. Immediately, she noticed the room and lit up with glee, "This is fang-tastic!"

"You mean you didn't have everything to do with it?" I teased.

"No, this is the council train!" she said exuberantly. Immediately, I held my daughter a little tighter.

"And did they approve you taking something of theirs for a joyride?" I asked as gently as possible.

She flashed me an adoring smile, "Of course. Daddy did pay for it, you know."

Of course. The famous Dracula money train hadn't ceased in centuries. It must've been nice to have more money than God. We had about ten times the Bill Gates fund, but the sheer amount of infinite supply that passed through Dracula's control was almost terrifying. She set down her things and perched on the edge of the opposite seat from the one Bram had previously taken as if she knew.

The council had been the response to the werewolf-vampire wars. Dracula had been the king before and he continued to reign as king afterward, but more than a few people had been...disgruntled by the fighting. So they enacted a system to put the heads of every powerful vampiric house into a council. The numbers had grown as money became more readily available. It was feudal, but it kept people happy enough. The council rarely ever delivered a new law or a decision, and in recent years they had become a figurehead for vampire kind. They were wealthy and well-off, and that was what it meant. But I had lived long enough to know their wraith. For a fleeting second, I wished that my parents had at least managed a few or more of them.

The train hissed and lurched into a slow chug. We were pulled slowly into a lulling momentum, and as if Zofie understood my reverie, she began to drift into her afternoon nap in my arms. I ran my fingers slowly through her hair and adjusted her little red headband. Bram watched out the window as the scenery slowly began to shift. The Impala and Clawd's car drifted away, sending the train into a lurching sprawl of dark, mangled forest.

They were all too close for comfort. I felt claustrophobic in my seat, and I shifted away from the sight of his view to pay attention to my baby. The anxiety in the pit of my stomach was overwhelming. The very clouds, miles above us, felt like they were pressing down on me. My stomach clenched. I needed something to take my mind off the anticipation racing through my veins.

"Did you know listening to a cicada song is incredibly calming?" As soon as Draculaura spoke, I exhaled in relief.

"Can you tell?"

"A bit," she giggled. Zofie shifted slightly, pressing her head to my belly. I felt soft without my corset, like my spine wasn't as well supported. I felt fat. Thankfully, my dress wasn't tight enough to show off every curve, just the hips and bust.

Bram tugged the curtain shut and glanced to us, "So. Zo's asleep, who wants to play Scrabble?"

Draculaura was tapping at her tablet and glanced up at him with a slightly raised brow. "How about we play _How Rich Are You Going To Be?_"

I tucked Zofie against the pillows and rose. Call it inextinguishable curiosity, but I genuinely wanted to see. Bram's curiosity piqued too; he slid over and took the few steps to join me on the other side of Draculaura, peering down at her tablet. His brows rose. Mine furrowed. "That's not a lot."

Her head snapped up and she leaned away from me to get a better look at me, "Gory, that's millions."

"We have eight billion people in the world," I replied. "The country is trillions of dollars in debt and a Google is a number." Bram shook his head and withdrew, "For a girl whose parents came to the states dirt farming, that's a very good transition."

I rolled my eyes, but accepted his proud kiss anyway. He tugged me close by my elbows, pressing another light kiss to my nose to bring a smile to my lips. His forehead pressed to mine, a soft sigh escaping his lips, "Did you check before we left?"

"No dice yet," I murmured. I smoothed the collar of his shirt tenderly, "Soon, baby. We've just got to give it time."

He nodded slightly, his nose brushing mine in a timid nuzzle. Draculaura looked at us like we were half insane. I hadn't exactly delivered the news to her yet, what with packing and trip readiness and schedule preparation underway. It was the setup for a new chapter of life, and I couldn't wait to embrace it.

The door was pulled open sharply despite the moving train, and all three of us looked to the sweaty, portly conductor huffing in the door. He was so red in the face, he looked human, yet I could tell by the aqueous scales on his neck that he certainly wasn't.

"_Voivodessa, _there is a man," he panted.

Draculaura rose, "A man?"

"A man...following the train."

My eyes flicked to Bram. He released me as I rushed to wake Zofie and gather her near. He went for his suitcase, opening the front pocket to withdraw a small weapon and slide it into concealment.

"Who? How?" Draculaura asked. She sounded more and more like her father every day.

The panting man paused suddenly as I grasped my baby in my arms. My head snapped back in time to see him pitch forward onto the velvet rug. My heart leapt into my throat and I pressed Zofie into my shoulder as tightly as I could. There _was_ a man on the train, clinging to the edge of the car in front of us, and he was not human.

"The door!" I shouted, spurring them both. Draculaura snapped it shut with all the force in her body, but not before he jumped. As soon as it connected with its lock, he collided with it, and I heard the sickening shriek of claws on metal. Zofie awoke with a piercing, terrified shriek. I clamped my hand over her mouth and pressed her into my chest. Draculaura forced the reinforced lock toward its place, clearly fighting a strength far greater than her own. Bram abandoned her to take up the position of a sentry in front of us. My eyes flicked to his lower back only once, taking notice of the silently hidden revolver. I hoped every bullet was silver.

Before she could force the lock to close, the door slid back with enough force to send her stumbling. Her tablet skittered off the seat and under the bed, but that was not what he wanted. I could see that he was a lycanthrope simply from the way he moved; he wasn't particularly furred...in fact, he passed for human. And I knew. I knew the second I saw his eyes that I had seen this wolf before. We had met once in the garage of Belfry Prep, and he was supposed to be dead.

"Hello, doll," he said in a Rodney Skinner-esque tone, all relaxation and conversation. "Remember me?"


	51. Chapter Fifty-One

_Chapter Fifty-One_

"Whatever you want, you can take it," Draculaura said with a surprising amount of confidence. I forced Zofie to release my neck so I could tuck her behind my body against the iron door. Her nails dragged down my skin only to wind in my skirt, and as subtle as the action had been, she hadn't stopped whimpering. It drew the lycan's attention and made the center of my being burn.

He stepped over the body of the man he'd killed, taking a step toward my daughter. I pressed her against my hip and hissed between my teeth. His eyes flickered up to me. Fangs bared, teeth grit, eyes burning; if he took another step, I'd kill him myself, silver or no silver. He smiled slowly, rising to his full height once again, "Come now, no one needs to be tense."

"You killed a man," I hissed, "I don't think there's a reason not to be."

He smirked. "He was in my way." He took another step, and I released Zofie. She scrambled under the bed. Bram drew his gun. Draculaura threw open one of the desk drawers for another weapon. I realized almost instantly that it was a very stupid idea. A shot cracked through the room, but it only succeeded in embedding in the wall as the wolf charged. I slammed my full weight into his chest, blocking him from nearing my daughter. Without much hesitation, he grabbed both of my forearms and wrenched my back to his chest. The touch of light fur to my bare skin radiated heat that felt too warm to be natural.

"Both of you are going to drop your weapons on the ground, now." Claws pricked my skin. I didn't wince, but Bram noticed them immediately. Hot breath fanned my neck, razor sharp teeth only inches away from tearing open my jugular. He threw his gun at my feet and raised his hands in a peaceful surrender. Draculaura held on to her letter opener only a moment longer before dropping it on the soft velvet floor.

"Go put the boy out before he bleeds all over the carpet, will ya sweetheart?" he quipped to Draculaura. I licked my lips to keep myself composed. He waited until Draculaura had gone over to the body and lifted it. Tears glistened in her eyes, but she placed him on the landing outside our car and shut the door. Both of their tension rose infinitely, yet the wolf holding me relaxed. "Very good. I didn't even have to ask."

"What do you want from us?" she whispered. There was one thing I could never understand, even in the face of something infinitely more monstrous than her, she always tried to maintain some kind of humanity.

I felt him shrug against my back. My blood went cold; I knew what he was going to say before he said it. Even that didn't make it any easier. "Revenge would be nice." He could've snapped my neck. Instead, his claws ripped open my arms. I slammed my heel on the hilt of Bram's gun, snapping it up into the air. Blood was already tracing down my arms, wrenching away was only adding to what was already there. I grabbed it out of the air, prepared to turn when my back collided with the iron.

I lost a few minutes then. Everything was dark, and I knew my head had been nearly bashed in. I stirred at Draculaura's screaming, my eyes lifting slowly. The light was searing in my skull, but I could see well enough to aim.

My gun was gone. Skittered over near Draculaura's tablet.

She was screaming at the sight of Bram and the wolf tearing into each other like animals. Had I a little less pain and a little more time to register, I would've too. I pushed myself up, longing to cry out to him. The bed shifted as Zofie crawled out. She didn't look at me, just at her father. The wolf's claws were embedded in her father's shoulders as it forced him to his knees. My head was searing, warm and sticky, but my veins felt cold.

"I'm going to show you where nobility gets you, _Lord Devein._"

An expression crossed my daughter's face that I had never seen before in my life, nor ever thought I would. Her tender, pouty lips pulled back over her teeth in a look of predatory ferocity. Her eyes went dark and she crouched like a jungle cat. Her tiny hand grasped the letter opener her aunt had tossed to the floor, and she launched herself forward like a cornered little beast. My jaw went slack. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine the sight of my daughter slamming a blade into the throat of a man attacking her father. I hoped for a moment that I was lucid dreaming, but the spray of blood that coated my arms in warmth shocked me back into reality. I was bleeding quite badly, to the point where my skin felt cold, and Zofie had leapt onto the lycan's back and stabbed like she was possessed. My breath started coming in quick gasps. She didn't even use her fangs to slice his throat, only the blade in her hand. Where had she learned that? Or had it come naturally?

Draculaura rushed over. She immediately went to tending my wounds. It took me a moment to realize I was shaking, and that my gasping breaths were really sobs. Bram stood, released by the weakened hold, and took the blade from Zofie's hand. It seemed to awaken her. In one swift move, he removed her and bent for his gun before the wound could seal, and he let off another piercing shot. That time I screamed. The lycan pitched backward onto the velvet floor with a hole punched in his chest, completely still.

My daughter's hands were covered in blood. Her little dress, soaked in it. A little of the spray was on her chin, and her father affectionately wiped it away. He kissed her forehead as if nothing was wrong and rocked her tenderly as he turned toward us. His brows knit together and Zofie's eyes went wide. Despite my bloody arms, I reached for her and she jumped from his hold into mine. I pressed her to my chest fiercely, kissing her round little face over and over again desperately. "Oh Zo," I whispered to her as I brushed back her hair, "My sweet baby..."

She glanced at her father with terrified eyes. He sat beside me and tenderly caressed her face, "It's alright, sugar plum. No one will ever know you did that. Okay?"

Draculaura looked between the both of us with a more greatly disturbed expression than I would've pegged.  
"Oh don't pretend you weren't a child murderess," I snapped. "The princess act only hides so much."

"Shock doesn't suit you," she replied. I watched her rise and rush to her luggage to produce a disgustingly extensive first aid kit. She returned and began tending to my arms instantly. Zofie pressed herself to me, soaking my white dress in red. Her little eyes resembled garnets once again, heavy with post-adrenaline rush exhaustion. Bram scooped her gently from me and wound her in his arms, "You were amazing, my little blood orange."

She smiled into the crook of his neck and wound her bloody fingers in his shirt. "I love you, Daddy."

...

The train turned back at Portland. Draculaura would have no more chance of anything. At first, I had tried to insist that it was alright. It was an isolated incident, it wouldn't happen again, but I doubted that anything I could've said could've changed her mind. We had been gone for maybe eight hours when we arrived home with Zofie fast asleep in the back seat. Everything was gorgeous and pristine, in fact, it looked like it had been cleaned. There was a vague light coming from the back, which meant the fountain lights were on, and the grand chandelier cast our living room in glistening gold warmth.

We waited in the car outside for a moment before he pulled into the garage. I could hear Queen from inside, and the scent of raw meat being cooked awoke my stomach. I leaned back into the seat and removed my glasses to rub my eyes.

"It's alright," he said after a moment. "It happens. I told you, my brother and I used to be ferocious with each other."

"And if she lets it slip to the council?" My breath released in a slow huff. "Bram, if they try to start another war over this, we're going to get caught up in the middle. I know she's shocked, but running off to tell Daddy isn't going to help anyone."

He rose and went into the back to scoop out Zofie. Immediately, Rain burst out into the garage with a beaming smile on her face, "What happened, y' weren't supposed t' be home...?" Her smile fell as she saw my bandaged arms and the blood on my dress. Her eyes immediately flicked to Zofie, napping contently on her father's shoulder.

"Old scores, long stories," Bram murmured as he passed her. "I have to wake Zo and give her a bath. Would you grab Vinnie and help him unload?"

She nodded, dashing off into the house. My throat felt tight as I stepped inside. Everything looked polished and pristine. The door to the veranda was open through the kitchen, and I could see Natasha out with Aleksi in the cool summer night, grilling much-needed food. Vinnie and Charlie stepped inside, and as soon as he saw me, he beelined for me like he was my own brother. I opened my arms for him, unable to hold my composure much longer. He threw his arms around my cinched waist and squeezed me with the fierceness I squeezed my daughter. He held me tight enough to let me go to pieces in his arms.

I clung to him in silent gratitude. He had no idea how deeply his friendship supported me, especially as he physically held me when Bram could not. Half of my tears were in relief. He was safe, my baby was safe, we were home and nothing was wrong. Half of my tears were in terror. They could've been hurt. They would've been hurt. So little had kept us alive that it felt like sheer luck. I would never disarm myself again. Here, I had an arsenal at my disposal. I had made the mistake of following my pride and it had nearly cost my family their lives.

He didn't question me, only held me. Only guided me into a chair so he could soothe me properly. His rough fingers caressed my hair, so much like my father that it caused my heart pain to make the comparison. Draculaura had the ability to run home to her father when something went wrong, the only father I had left was my husband's, and if I called for him it would become a call to war.

"What happened babydoll?" Vinnie murmured as he held me. "You're all scratched up."

I laid my head in the crook of his neck and sighed in frustration. I should've never trusted someone else to do anything properly back at Belfry Prep. The only way we'd come out alive was because I'd done it myself.


	52. Chapter Fifty-Two

_Chapter Fifty-Two_

I spent the night between violently awakening from my dreams and attempting to push them away before descending back into them. The realm of my imagination seemed lost for the night; each dream was not a work of fiction, but a memory that felt as if it should've been buried under time. I remembered the first encounter in the garage of Belfry Prep. Sprinting to the car and peeling away. Dashing out as bait, and hitting the deck because I had known that Coach Dewey was going to fire on it. I remembered being circled by wolves as the Impala joined our defensive line. The screaming words my mother and I had exchanged the night before I left for Belfry Prep, each moment laced in venomous fury. Before I woke, I remembered the villa. A tender horse that people now considered a polo pony, kicking up clouds of red dust as I darted through the rows of wine grapes. Red soil, red earth, red wine, red grapes. The color of the heat of the Tuscan summer. The color of war.

"You look like hell," Vinnie pointed out as I wandered into the kitchen. I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee and downed a large gulp of the scalding liquid before Natasha could dash over with ice. They both looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. I took my cup out onto the veranda with me, the heat enough to sear my hands through its ceramic base. The sun was obscured by mile-thick clouds streaked in blueish gray. It was cool and damp, as if it had rained and intended to again. I set my cup down on the bistro table to watch Zofie and Aleksi chase the frogs who emerged from their hiding in the wet grass. One would pop up, and they would dash over from feet away to observe it before another did the same at a greater distance and they continued their chase with no pattern but what caught their eyes. I could see his puzzle piece still housed in the pocket of her overalls, and a little part of me understood that he would always have ninety-nine pieces now.

"Zofie," I called out, "are you wearing shoes?"

She looked up with wide, innocent eyes. There were leaves in her ponytail, and dirt caked up to her elbows. She was even messier than Aleksi, and it was amusing to say the very least. All manner of debris clung to her wet legs. I motioned her over, ducking inside for a towel while she ran part of the length of the yard to return to me. She darted in through a spot in the fence and beamed up at me. I wiped her down, so much wetness on her skin that by the time I had worked my way to the dirt on her arms, the towel itself was damp enough to wipe it clean without much effort. "Your father just gave you a bath last night."  
She smiled, "I know. I think he said I need more bubble bath." She glanced over her shoulder toward Aleksi with anticipation obvious in her eyes. He held one of the precious little beasts in his hands, watching it before it leapt free and splashed into the fountain.

"No more bringing in frogs," I said, tapping her nose with the edge of the towel.

"Okay, Mama," she replied. She stretched up on her toes to kiss my cheek before ducking out the way she'd come and dashing off down the lawn to her little playmate. Like a tiny jungle cat, she leapt onto his back and sent him sprawling into the mud on his face. They both burst into laughter.

I sighed, discarding the towel over the railing of the gate and turned to regain my cup. My heart nearly leapt into my throat, keeping my terror silent as I was confronted with it in the hand of an unexpected visitor. It took a solid second to process that he meant me no harm. My best friend's father looked at me with amusement sparkling in his dark eyes. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I've heard you had quite the evening, came to see if you were alright."

"All things considered, lovely," I replied. He placed the cup in my hands and pulled out one of the bistro chairs for himself. I perched on the edge of the planter, willing my heart to slow down as I sipped the cooler liquid. For the moments it had been on the sun-warmed tabletop, it felt much smoother than I had thought it to be. I nodded to him gratefully. He glanced out to the playing children on the field. "I've also heard Zofie was quite impressive."

"It's an instinct. We're all born with it, no point in making a big deal."

He nodded, but he watched her as if he anticipated something. My eyes flicked back to her as she scooped up frogs and passed them to Aleksi to carry in his shirt like some kind of transportation system for amphibians. They ran from one spot of croaking habitation to the other with the occasional frog leaping out from under his arm. My breath grew heavy in my chest. I stared at him until he looked at me, and he looked at me with a great deal of guarded neutrality in his expression. "Draculaura had quite the scare last night. As can be expected, the council want some answers."

I suddenly understood my parents' plight. In a perfect world, no parent had to question a government about the well-being of their child. In a perfect world, any little baby could grow up to be safe and sound, but the horrible reality was that they never were. They weren't at conception, they weren't as a cell, and they certainly weren't safe when they had left their mother's womb. I straightened, daring him to say what he intended to say. He didn't, yet he could tell from the hardness in my eyes that he was going to hear exactly what I had to say. "With all due respect, sir, I've killed more men than half of your imperial guard. My husband struck the killing blow, and that creature was after the both of us. This is none of your concern, nor is it the council's. If anyone has anything to ask, all questions, comments and concerns should be directed to me."

He smiled lightly; the amusement remained in his eyes, but I could tell he was impressed. He was a king, he was not used to people speaking their mind to him nor did he tolerate it when it wasn't in his favor. If I were anyone else, I would've been killed. "Don't tell me for a second that you haven't covered for Draculaura," I hissed. "I haven't let any harm come to her. As my friend, I am counting on you to do the same for my daughter. You know me, Vladimir. You know that I don't make threats, I make promises. If you let any harm come to my daughter through those men...you know exactly what kind of a promise I will carry out."  
He rose slowly from my chair. Momentarily, I was afraid of what I would find if I met his eyes, but I didn't keep the fear very long. There was understanding in them. "I know you very well, Lady Devein. You're not much like your parents. You don't care how much media coverage you have, so long as you leave a proper trail of blood."

"I never break a promise, do I?"

He headed for the door and paused, glancing to me over his shoulder. I should've been afraid. He was very likely the oldest of us all and by far the most powerful. If he wanted to kill me, he had every opportunity, and yet he knew better than any of the others ever would that should anyone make a move toward my daughter, they would have to physically burn me alive to ensure I was dead before they could try.

Splashing and giggling sounded from behind me, and I heard a rush of panicked croaking as the frogs leapt away from the children attempting to dump them in the fountain-pond. I was still furious, mostly with my hardly trustworthy so-called friend. Zofie ran up to me with a little, wriggling ball of green flesh between her trapped hands, "Can I keep this one? Just so the one I have has a friend?"

I could tell by the beaming grin of the little boy beside her that it was all his idea, and as much as I loathed the idea of caring for more animals...I didn't resist. I couldn't. I had never resisted giving her anything, and she wasn't a murderous child. There was nothing from her to fear, nothing from her that wasn't worth every bit of my reverence. My fury melted into completely petrified hopelessness. I sunk off the edge of the planter and brought her close to me. I pressed my lips to her head, tracing them over her silky skin and pressing my cheek into her damp, gold locks. "Of course, my dearest, sweetest little angel..."

She paused, glancing up at me with her gemstone eyes so full of trust and truth. "Are you okay, Mama?"

No. I wasn't. I was terrified for her safety to the point of instinctively wanting to prepare for a war that my parents had tried to carry out for much the same reason. If they would force me to kill, I had to be prepared. If they saw it as aggression, they would force my hand. I was torn, because either way it seemed that I was damned for her safety. Terror pierced my heart as I whispered, mostly to myself, "Carraway was a fool, the past is so easily repeated."

I should've recoiled in horror at the germs on her hands as she wound her muddy little fingers in my shirt. The frog wriggled from her hands only to be caught in Aleksi's, and he ran inside before I could rethink my decision. I pressed her close to me, my arm tightly around her back and under her bottom. She curled into me, "Something's wrong, isn't it?"

"No," I whispered. "Nothing is wrong. I'm just having a very rough morning."

She examined my face as if to ask if I was sure I wanted to go with that story. I kissed her forehead lightly and carried her inside. Bram emerged from the basement, clearly prepared to ask why the man overseeing his employer had come to see me, but he could tell from the look in my eyes that something was extremely wrong. He reached out to me, but I shook my head. My throat felt tight enough already. Through a voice that threatened tears, I whispered, "There's money in my purse, go get Zo more bubble bath. She's been playing with frogs again all day."

I didn't say a word, but he knew. Betrayal filled his gaze, and he nodded mechanically. I pressed Zofie so tightly to my chest that she understood. I was not okay. With trembling hands, I went to Rain's room and tapped at her door. I heard her speak to someone quietly as she rose, and I saw the receiver of the white-handled phone I had gotten for her room on her pillow. She took one look at my face and her eyes went wide.

"Please give Zofie a bath," I whispered. I was at my limit. She nodded, dashing back in to hang up and taking my daughter from my arms to go to her room, shielding her tiny face from meeting mine. I waited only until they were out of earshot to pick up the phone and call the most familiar number in my mind, even though I had never dialed it before. My fingers trembled against the delicate chrome as it rang, and I prayed with all of the fullness in my chest that he would answer.

"Jack Donovan Construction, you got the plan, we've got the man. Sean speaking."

I had a million witty things to say about it being his work phone, or having no friends, or any myriad of subjects, but as tears began to trace my cheeks, all I could force out was a whisper. "You need to come home."


	53. Chapter Fifty-Three

_Chapter Fifty-Three_

I was trapped in a glass case of emotion with absolutely no way to process it. Even with Charlie over and Sammy begging for scraps around our legs, we had the doors closed and the shades drawn. It was an action of habit. I could hardly eat around the lump in my stomach. Every so often, someone would look up at everyone else and let their gaze drop. Bram's hand slid onto my knee and gave a gentle squeeze. I let one of my hands drop to hold his there, our fingers laced together and clutching each other.

"Look, I don't mean to sound insensitive," Charlie said, shifting in his seat, "but Dracula's aware that you have every intention to rip him limb from limb. There's also more than one of us. Yeah, he has a guard, but we have Rain. We went to Belfry Prep. We were trained by a psychopath. You guys have badass written all over you, why are you worried?"

"Because she's their child," Natasha replied for me. She stabbed some pasta until sauce leaked from their insides like blood and brought them to her mouth. "You don't know what lengths parents will go to for their children."

"Yeah, I kind of do. Ordinary parents wouldn't do a damn thing, that's kind of why I got stuck with Vinnie."

The greaser rose a brow at his ward's comments, obviously taking mild offence. Charlie put down his fork and leaned his elbows on the table. "You guys aren't ordinary parents. Just assert yourself, for Christ's sake. Build up your weapons, put on your war paint, and make sure they know that you're not going to sit back and let them fuck you over."

"Charlie," Natasha chastised. I set my fork down and pushed away from the table, shrugging off my husband's hand and rising on my own. Zofie looked at me from her place nestled between her father and Rain. I patted his shoulder in passing, wandering out into the main room and out the front door. The heat felt sliced. I was used to Salem's bipolar weather, but this felt disgusting. I wanted to double back for a sweater, but it would do me no good. I settled on the step closest to the door and took slow breaths. The cool air invaded my lungs and seemed to permeate through my body from the inside out. It should've been easy. After everything I had done to prove my loyalty, after everything I had trusted her with...

My head lifted at approaching tires. For a moment, my heart lifted with the knowledge that Sean was coming. I may not have put a particular lot of faith in the eldest Devein brother, but he was certainly someone I wanted on my side, should it come to it. The excessive pink and black roadster rolled up my driveway to park deliberately in front of my house. The cold was pierced by a sharp slam of fury. She climbed out of her car, her eyes wide and terrified. Good. She took hesitant steps around the front of her car, her keys dangling and swishing in the light breeze. As she neared, I didn't rise. Not until she was almost near me. Raw fury boiled inside me until she had stepped nearly close to me, her slender, flawless legs bared in her tight little pencil skirt. She reached out to me, hesitating, drawing her hand back toward her mouth. She was afraid to speak and I knew damn well why. It was childish, but I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to make her cry. Hitting her wouldn't be enough, I wanted to drag that werewolf out from under her and break her heart too, just like she threatened to break mine. Her eyes made me so angry. Wide, pure and innocent, like she didn't know this was going to happen. I snapped to my feet and pushed her off the stairs, "_You vamp-stabbing traitor!_"

She tumbled backward onto the pavement on her backside. Those prissy little heels gave way under her, but she didn't move. She sat there, shocked, but understanding. Princess or no princess, she didn't move from the abuse and it made my heart ache. She trusted me not to be excessively rough, or maybe it was just her blind faith in me that I wanted to break. I wanted to break her, destroy everything about her that made her special to her father or anyone else. I couldn't look at her, not like this. She pushed herself up timidly. I wished I had the lack of honor enough to strike her down. My hands were clenched, shaking with the raw desire to rip her glorious dark locks from her scalp and beat her until she begged me to kill her. My throat was tight. I was not shocked at my own capacity to want to harm my best friend; I was very used to hurting the people I loved. The only difference between them came in Bram's ability to never take things personally.

Her arms wound around my neck. I released my breath slowly, trying to force the fury from my body. It was so hard to do. I felt her crying. My denouncement of her had come on our first meeting and it had come again with an even greater force. She was quaking, her beautiful, delicate figure pressed to mine. "Please," she whispered. "Gory, say something."

"I hate you," I whispered. It wasn't entirely untrue, but of all the things swirling in my mind it was the first to find its way out. I felt her bite her lip to muffle a sob. A part of me hated the rest of me, but I continued. She asked, and she would receive. "How could you?" I whispered. I pushed her away. She coiled as if I'd hit her, trying to obscure her teary eyes. I didn't need to hit her, I was already breaking her heart. "How could you do this to me?" I hissed. "She's my baby, Laura, my _baby_. She is the most precious, treasured, _fragile_ thing in my world, and you go blabbing to your father that she's as capable of killing as me? Do you know what they could do to her? If the council wants answers and he mentions that the granddaughter of the woman who wanted them dead can kill on a whim, do you have the faintest idea what could happen to all of us? Because I couldn't stop myself from killing everyone who came after me. I would do anything to protect my daughter. Kill you, kill your father, kill anyone in this fucking town. The blood of the covenant is only so strong."

My lower lip trembled with the desperation that was clutching my insides in a vice. She sobbed audibly, her demure hand fluttering to her heart as if I'd punched a physical wound. Her eyes lifted, shining with tears, raw and racoon-rimmed in running mascara. It was not fair that she got to be that beautiful while crying. It wasn't fair she had gotten to go to prom while I stayed home to bleed myself dry nursing my baby. It wasn't fair that she grabbed fame by the golden platter all because of her name, reveled in her controversy, married the boy who went from star football player to a doctor that was sure to be revered. She won his family financial boom and more luxury than any unenslaved lycan had ever known, while my family severed ties because they were living in fear. They weren't even that well off, I was because I married Bram. And the envy, the hatred of everything that I had thought I understood, it all bubbled out and over in my scorn for her.

"It's not fair. You get everything handed to you, and you pass on your wealth like Oprah. You act like people need to respect and revere you because you're such a saint, but at the first chance you get, you betray them when they need you most. Yeah, you are a fucking princess. You're just like your father."

Her hands dropped and she cried at me openly. Like a child throwing a tantrum, she screamed at me through her tears. "I did not betray you! You know I'd never do that! I would never let anything happen to Zo, she's special to me too! I'm her godmother, I love her and I love you! You're my family, Gory, you're the only person that I think cares about me sometimes!"

"What about your precious pack?" I felt like I was spitting venom. She did nothing but drink it in.

"You know what about them," she sobbed, sucking in air like she couldn't breathe. "Gory, please. Please, I would never let anything happen to you or Zofie, I swear to you, I swear to God, I'll do whatever it is you need me to, just please...please don't _hate_ me, I can't take it if you _hate_ me."

It wasn't very royal for her to sink to her knees before me the way she did, but she did. She buried her face in her palms and cried until the makeup smudged on them. Her nose was running and she looked like she was suffering. She sucked in a shaky breath and trembled, refusing to meet my eyes. Her agony was tangible, as was her defeat. "Everyone else hates me in our kind, and I don't think I can stand it if you do too."

I was the only vampire left who loved her. It wasn't a surprising thought, they were too old to see a lycan marriage as a good thing. Her father was a warlord, that was why they didn't think him soft, and she was his precious gem. I'm sure they hoped it was a phase at best, called her a traitor at the very least. It was in that middle ground of pure and unadulterated hate that I knew she thought I had gone to. Instead, I sighed like I really was my age and sunk onto the steps beside her. I traced her beautiful locks from her damp face, "Go grab your tissues from your purse, you've gone to pieces."

She struggled to her feet, but did so anyway. While she blew her nose, I wiped the mascara from under her eyes and tended to the dampness on her face. "I do know," she whispered. "You're so lucky to have her. She just tops off your love for each other, and I wish I had that with Clawd. I didn't think, but I will think. I won't let them near her, I promise, I won't let them touch her."

It was cool and my skin felt scalding from the fire-blaze of fury that had been boiling inside of me. She didn't look at me. I kept finding myself as the only person who could make the princess submit to me. Maybe that was my gift, the way Valentine had his magic.

"Then I want you to go home and lie," I whispered. "When we were on board, I was the one who grabbed the letter opener and hacked at the lycan's throat. Then he threw me. Zofie hid. Bram struck the killing blow and you watched, because you were too afraid. You were tired and confused at first, and you didn't know what you'd seen. You were overwhelmed. But you know now."

She nodded.

"And you had better make your father swear before God and Satan alike that if he betrays me, he will lay down like a shot pig and let me finish him myself."

She shuddered. The lack of filter was probably what won me dominance. I never could keep a lid on the aggression once it settled. She nodded anyway, and I linked my arm through hers and laid her head on my shoulder. "I don't hate you, you spoiled brat. But you're going to have to make me love you again."

"How?" she whispered.

I kissed the top of her head and unwound my arm from hers, "Take audio and send it to me when you do. Maybe then I'll trust you."


	54. Chapter Fifty-Four

_Chapter Fifty-Four_

Snowy ivory skin, like silk beneath my hands, seemed to stretch over her sharp shoulder blades. Like angel wings, they protruded gently, creating the shape of a bat's wing structure. My thumbs traced slowly over her skin while she clutched the blanket to her chest, attempting to cover her barely-clad figure. I lowered my lips to her skin, crawling in beside her and wrapping her tightly in my arms. She squirmed for a moment, nestling her curves comfortably against my body, before settling down with the blanket draped over us both.

"Are you cold?" I murmured, massaging her upper arms, "I could turn up the thermostat."

She caught my hands and slid them under the blanket with her own. They nestled against her bare belly, a soft sigh passing her lips. "If anything happens...I'm sorry we couldn't have everything you wanted."

It was my turn to sigh. I tugged her torso closer to my own as my arm slid gently under her head to support her. She closed her eyes, curling into the crook of my elbow to place a light kiss there. I traced her stomach slowly, brushing my fingers from her ribs down to her waist and back up. "I have everything I've wanted. I'm rather happy that we don't have to put another child through this."

She laced her fingers through mine and smiled into the crook of my arm. I felt her lips tremble and lowered my face to hers. My lips brushed her hair, lingering to inhale the tender, rosy scent of her shampoo. "I still wish I got to give you everything. Until we know, I can't justifiably try to bring another child into the world. Not if it's going to betray them."

I couldn't comfortably promise her that I wouldn't beat her to the punch, so I kissed her temple tenderly and held her while she tried to fall asleep. It was a difficult process. We drifted to the very edge of sleep and then became uncomfortable, and forced ourselves to shift. Finally, with my arm withdrawn and her body coiled in blankets, she fell asleep in a tightly wrapped ball in the middle of the bed and I gave up on trying to sleep at all. While Gory got her much-needed rest, I went into our daughter's room and sat beside her bed.  
Her tiny chest rose and fell. It felt so hard to believe that she was real when she looked so delicate. My little china doll, her golden hair strewn over her face, her little lips pressed together as if she were thinking intensely while she slept. One arm clutched her pink skeleton cat close to her little body while the other sprawled out as if she were holding something in it and freeing it to roll away. I looked into her fingers and found Aleksi's puzzle piece within it. It nearly brought a laugh to my lips. Slipping it from her grip gently, I placed it on her nightstand and tucked her arm closer to her body. The water of her aquarium acted as a prism, throwing light in shapes on her pastel ceiling. A part of me was just as desperate as Gory. Zofie was a child, nothing more. She loved dolls and soft toys that she could squeeze. She chased frogs and tried to bring every wayward rabbit that crossed her path inside as a pet until we took Princess in for Valentine. She was just a little girl. She tried to be like her mother and had a little bit of makeup as a result, she read books to her dolls and had tea parties with lemonade mix. Zofie loved crunchy peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwiches and treasured her little Tinkerbell earrings. There was nothing dangerous about my little girl, there was hardly anything about her that wasn't like any other little girl.

I sighed, forcing myself to move from her bedside before I woke her. The first time I had looked into this room, it had been in fury. My presumptuous ass of a brother had gone and taken his opinions into his own hands, and perhaps it had been that presumption that had given the little push necessary to create the child all nestled in her bed, blissfully unaware that should the council decide that she was worthy of real danger...  
It was a thought that I couldn't bear to finish. Even unfinished, it caused my breath to catch in my lungs and my throat to tighten with sheer, overwhelming defiance. Gory could vocalize this pain, but I didn't have the words. I couldn't cast myself to my knees and clutch her, murmur to her that she was the most precious thing. I didn't have the time to protect her that way. Perhaps Charlie was right. It would be early in Ireland, but...

A car was coming up the driveway. Curiosity mixed with fear. I checked her windows and locked her door from the inside in my wake. The bathing of non-halogen lights immediately attracted my interest. As I descended the stairs and tugged open the door, the door of a pristine Chevy Nomad slammed shut. My shoulders relaxed considerably. Sean's headlights cut and he jogged across the lawn to meet me, obviously having rushed for quite some time. "Everyone alright?"

I nodded. He was still in his work clothes, that much was visible. Shavings of wood clung to his knees and various other hems of his jeans. The sleeves of what must've once been a nice, short sleeved denim shirt like early gas station attendants and mechanics wore had been torn off long ago, left to fray. It almost burned me to think that my brother had a fully normal life away from us. If he had been human, he would've been even better built and tan. Immature as it may be, a surge of jealousy rose in the back of my throat, mingled with disgust. "I didn't call you."

"Nah, your wife did." He stepped past me without a second glance.

My pride took a plunge, "Why would she call you?"

"Cause apparently there's shit going down with the council? Dracula's threatenin' my niece? Do ya give half a mind to anybody else when things happen, Bram? Because I love that kid as much as you do and I'm not about to let anyone mess with 'er, and I'm sure Mom an' Dad would agree."

I felt like a child with my hand stuck in the cookie jar. "You didn't."

"Not yet," he said, exhaling slowly. His breath smelled like peppered meat and tobacco. There was a general train of normalcy in life, and no matter the diversity upon it, it seemed like Sean had caught it and I had been left on the platform. He rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head, "Look, I'm sorry t' barge in like this. She was cryin' and I thought...y'know. Somethin' happened t' both of ya."

I gestured to the upper level, "They're both asleep."

He sunk down in one of the seats. His hair wasn't shaved down this time. I wondered if she'd called him when he intended to do that. I sunk into the seat beside him with a heavy sigh. I leaned back, he leaned on his knees. We faced the fireplace as if we had no other choice.  
"Still wearing the Vietnam tags, I see."

"I hated that fuckin' war," he muttered. "They keep remindin' me why I'm not gonna fight anymore."

I closed my eyes against the soft, less-firm linen at my back. So much love and wear had been put in these past years. We bottled up everything that made a house a home and spilled it out here. I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "You can't just quit. I know you."

"I know," he muttered. He ran his fingers through the fuzzy blond hair on his head like it made a difference. "But it's workin'."

I laughed in a huff of breath. It was bullshit, at least in my mind, that having him over was getting me to relax enough to feel sleepy. He noticed, and he leaned back on the sofa himself.

:When did she call?" I murmured.

"Four, five hours ago. Shakin' and cryin' and not makin' sense. Poor little thing. I was gonna head off for drinks with the guys after work, went home and packed up. Tossed it in the car, came down here."

The difference between our voices felt like the most difference between us at the moment. It was reassuring, to say the very least, to know he loved her almost as much as I did, even if it was platonic. "If anything happens beyond my control, you need to take them and leave."

Sean laughed out loud. I opened my eyes a bit more to look at him, and he was grinning beyond all natural belief. "Y' ever watch that show with the brothers huntin' demons, an' the ones gay for an angel or somethin' like that?"

I rose a brow, "Is that what's on TV now?"

"We're like them," he continued as if I hadn't said a word. "If anythin' happened beyond your control, I'd make sure you got the hell out of here and had somewhere to go. That girl is tough, Bram, but she ain't tough enough to escape a country of pissed off vampires without help."

She could. If it was necessary, Gory could pack up and take Zofie somewhere safe. She would probably stop at Vinnie and Natasha's place until she got word of us, then continue up north like some kind of Weapon X refugee. There were always options. Switch places with Sean, take over his life. Let her run and stay to cover her with him. Whatever it took, even if it didn't take anything yet, it would be alright. I exhaled slowly and glanced to him, "She's tough enough. I'd just rather she didn't have to do it without help."

He got up. I thought he'd leave, but he went over to the door and paused. "Y' mind if I take my old room back? I gotta wash up if ya want me decent for the girls in the morning."

I shook my head and forced myself to my feet in turn. He ducked out for a moment, allowing me to force myself further awake before he returned with his bag in hand. He locked the door and headed for the stairs as if the living arrangement were more permanent than I thought it to be. "Parked in the driveway," he commented.

"Vinnie hasn't left yet," I said lightly.

He scowled, "Bloody crappy Impala fits the little shit."

I shook my head and patted his back. We both paused at the top of the stairs and he followed me to the other side of the house. With a gentle, proper jimmy, he had Zofie's door open and went straight to her side, boosting his bag to give her a little kiss on her forehead. She didn't move, sound asleep as he slipped in and out of her bedroom. "I'll see Gory in the mornin'."

I nodded, clasping his shoulder, "Get some rest. We'll try to find out what's going on in the morning." He nodded. I watched him head off down the hall toward Rainy's wing and sighed. "Sean." He paused. I closed my eyes, forcing the dull throb behind them to subside. "Thank you for coming when she called."

He laughed on his breath the way I did when I wasn't really amused. "I may have my moments when I question if I love ya that much, but your daughter's somethin' else."


	55. Chapter Fifty-Five

_Chapter Fifty-Five_

With Sean around, no one had much time to worry about anything. The both of us were awoken by Zofie leaping into our bed and proclaiming that we were all going out to breakfast, whether we liked it or not, and we ought to get up and get dressed because she was _potentially going to die of famine._ I don't think either of us realized how much she read until that moment. Immediately after, he gallivanted us around the city to the point at which the Stoker clan had to leave to make their appointment with their realtor. Zo enjoyed every minute of shopping, eating and general tomfoolery. Bram's energy wore out quickly, yet I could tell from his eyes that he was at least partially grateful for his brother's sudden appearance and how suddenly he had seized control of us all. We found ourselves in Riverfront Park during rush hour and thought it better to park and wait out the traffic than attempting to fight our way through the unmoving ocean of automobiles.

"Daddy," Zofie announced, gripping Bram's hand, "Come ride with me on the carousel."

He scooped her up with a wide smile that she mirrored. Her baby fangs looked so delicate in comparison to her father's. "That I can do, princess."

She glanced to Sean and I, but I took a seat on a bench nearby and waved as he carried her off. She steered him toward a white horse with a vibrant emerald green saddle on the interior of the other children. She tugged her skirt down over the backs of her legs as she was set down, her tiny, polished shoes dangling over the sides. Her little hands wrapped around the brass bar, her father's hand sealing them their directly over hers. Most children went alone, preferring to be free of the cushion of childhood, but not Zo. She understood that she had eternity to grow and fully intended to savor every moment in a way that was truly superhuman.

"D' ya know why I paraded all of ya around the city?" Sean murmured in my ear as he ran his fingers through his hair. My eyes flicked to him but I remained unmoving otherwise. The carousel started, the carnival organ bubbling up into a crescendo of what must've been happy music once upon a time. "Cause if Dracula or the council has anyone watchin' ya, then they know who and what Zofie really is. She's a little girl who spends the day with her parents, eatin' mortal food and doin' mortal things."

I resisted the urge to wind my fingers through his and squeeze gratefully. He reclined, watching with the same amount of muted worry that bordered on indifference. If anyone was watching, they would see a rather worn out uncle and a vigilant mother, a woman smart enough to expect tricks. He continued speaking very gently, intending for only my ears to hear. "From what I gather, the council met last night. All depending on what they wanted to hear, that could be a very bad thing or a very good one."

"How do you know all this?" I whispered in reply.

He grinned in silence. I couldn't help but let my lips twitch upward in return; whether he disclosed his contacts or not, he had them. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and crushed me to his side, pressing a fierce kiss to my temple. The Devein boys were very warm for vampires, very affectionate and devoted. Loyal wasn't a good enough word. I felt at least partially married to Sean based on how well he treated my daughter and I alone. The carousel made its first complete rotation and Zofie nudged her father to wave for her. So many other children were smaller than her or larger than her, and there was my flawless little china doll tucked among them all. Golden locks tumbling over her shoulders, her soft little sundress draping around her legs and shiny shoes tapping the stone body of her horse. Beside her, her father looked like Apollo. Always by her side, always keeping her safe. Despite the summer warmth, he was still dressed nicely. He did just as Zofie asked, smiling to me as they passed us. Sean gave my shoulder a tender squeeze. "You are my family, Gory. And nothin' is going to happen to that little girl, you wanna know why?"

"Why?" I whispered to humor him despite my throat being thick with the threat of tears. I wanted to commit the moment to memory, just in case. I wanted to call upon it at any given time. The golden sun, the perfect weather. The clouds tinged in orange and lavender on the edges of the trees as if they stemmed from them. Powder blue sky deepening to an oceanic shade, my second-brother's arm around my shoulders.

"Because Dracula isn't the only warlord vampire who intends to do whatever necessary to keep his family safe." The way he whispered it, with his lips curled up in a prideful smirk, I knew he'd already passed on the information. I had no patience with anything lately; my anticipation easily translated into raw fury. And yet, he had understood that better than my husband even seemed to. Sean laughed as he propped his feet up on the edge of the bench, produced a beat up pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. "We have an army," he said with more volume, "and a Hulk."

I didn't have the words to thank him. I might've, but they were robbed from me. Draculaura's car whipped around the curve, skidding too near to other cars. She pulled fully onto the lawn since there weren't any available spaces, and though people gave her looks, she wrenched out her keys without properly parking and tore across the field to us. I rose, leaving Sean to his smoking, and met her partway. Immediately, she caught my hand and pressed the ring Clawd had put on her finger into it. "The pack is with you."

My stomach sunk. She produced her phone and clicked play. There was a solid seven seconds of silence before I heard her father speaking. _"It's not your place to question me."_

_"I was elected to this place by our people. It's entirely my place to question you."_ Someone else replied.

_"They defended themselves,"_ Draculaura said. _"Their daughter was hiding terrified, all they could do was fight."_

_"From what I'd heard, the daughter was involved."_

_"No."_

_"Are you covering for them?"_

_"No. I was there."_

_"This could start a war, do you understand that?"_

_"It won't. You know who I am and what I've done for my people and theirs. One werewolf does not speak for them all."_

_"Exactly. They'll hear and they'll start up again. Besides, the Devein clan has others."_

_"No. It would be easier to just wipe off the rest of the traitor's clan. Worst comes to worst, we can make it look like an accident."_ Multiple people cut in, cutting off her protests. It built in a crescendo until the boom of Dracula's voice made me jump. My best friend's eyes were fixated on me. I returned her ring.

"_Silence. I will have no talk of murdering one of our kind in my domain. You may think that you are entitled to some role of nobility, but I am your king and you _will _answer to me. No one touches them. No one approaches them, and so help me Lucifer if I hear any word of anyone's actions against this clan, you will answer to me."_

To anyone else, the threat of violence from Dracula meant surrender. To the council, it meant war. Sean sat, maintaining the steady billow of smoke around his face like the valves of a steamboat. I sunk back against the back of the bench. His hand slid up and down my forearm, tracing over my elbow. With the audio aside, Draculaura looked at me and threw her arms around my neck. She clutched me, her arms so tight around me that it ached. I slid my arms around her in return. But there was a beautiful thing about the whole situation. They had forgotten it to be about Zofie. Of course, they surely wanted her dead by my the tainting of my name and the knowledge that my blood was in her veins, but she was also a mirror of her father. She was more Devein than Fangtell and it showed in her beautiful face and her tender eyes. My best friend clutched me as all my worry ebbed away, only to be replaced with raw, furious defiance.

The carousel stopped and Zofie rushed off, pulling her father by the hand. He took one look at Draculaura and his eyes widened before becoming concerned. He paused to scoop her up, further appeasing her as they approached his brother. "Uncle Sean, are we gonna have dinner out too?"

He looked up at her and Bram and glanced back to me. I beamed, my arms still around my best friend. I released her slowly and allowed her to see my eyes as she withdrew, and a slow smile spread across her face. "Yes, we are my sweetest love," I replied, still staring at Laura. She understood completely the intent for violence in my eyes. I knew that she would support me despite her father's indifference, and I knew that when push came to shove, war was a thing we in the Devein clan did very well.

Sean rose and circled the bench to throw his arms around Laura and I, "Tonight, we feast, at dawn, _we ride!"_

_A/N- I'm sorry if this is on a bit of a shorter side than usually. My neighbor's dog who I've known for a very long time passed away yesterday.  
On the positive note, we haven't gotten the almighty reveal yet, but Monster High has revealed they'll attend NYCC this year for the first time, in case anyone wanted to know._


	56. Chapter Fifty-Six

_Chapter Fifty-Six_

There was a measure of relief that came with making it through a difficult day. It was twilight at seven, an entire hour earlier than a week or two ago. It was strange how easily the days melded into one another in a perpetual blur of bliss during the summer months. I yawned and beamed, staring down into my glass through sticky lashes. This would be the first year that we would actually be able to spend in Salem during the winter. I remembered its harshness brilliantly, but it was hardly different from Chicago; it just seemed to start and end at a more logical pace.

"Contemplating the universe?" Sean teased as he came up behind me in silence. His massive paws clamped down on both of my shoulders, squeezing and releasing in a way that probably had been intended to be a massage but only felt like it left a bruise. I smiled into my rapidly cooling tea, "No. Just enjoying the silence."

"Depeche Mode." His tone was as appreciative as a fan of classic music could be. The touch continued, growing more gentle, the heels of his palms digging into my shoulders. Natural warmth rose in my cheeks as I stole a glance over my shoulder, "You don't have a bet with your brother going, do you?"

He smirked, "If I did, lass, you'd be the last to know." He rested his chin on top of my head and continued down my back. How was it possible that they were so well versed in caring for another person? Sean was a bit more naturally rough than Bram, but the intent was still as adoring as my husband's. I had done a lot of crying in my old age. I had felt a lot of overwhelming emotion. It was nice to feel nothing but doted upon for the first night in a very long while. I could hear the giggles and muted teases of Bram and Zofie playing with the little ping pong case in the den. The soft bop and bounce of the hollow little ball was a kind enough sound to pace my breathing to. Sean's massage slowed, his arms wrapping around me and his cheek pressing to the top of my head. I couldn't remember the last time he'd hugged me so genuinely. Hugging was just his way, they were a greeting and always very naturally full of love, but the way he held me felt very new and different. I felt like he was really holding me. The intent to comfort and soothe, nearly the same as his brother, was easily conveyed by the not-so-tight grip of his solid muscles. I nudged his arms aside a bit to allow my tea around him.  
"Do you ever wonder why they left you behind?"

I laughed lightly and set the cup down on the counter. "They never left me behind. They may have made life a little difficult for me, but my parents had their reasons. It was their job to screw up." I gently shrugged free of his embrace, rising and stretching as I went to fetch the kettle and refill my cup. "If they hadn't, how else would I have grown?"

"Is that how it's done?" he asked, his tone almost sarcastic as he slid into the seat beside mine. I poured myself another cup of the loose-leaf tea and yawned. My muscles felt unwound for the first time in days. I met his eyes and leaned on the counter nearby, my fingers lacing together around the warm china to ward off the worst of the air conditioning. I met his eyes and smiled; for the first time, my emotions and my memories didn't scald the inside of my chest. It felt so beautifully lukewarm.

"It is," I said gently. "I'm not a perfect parent. My parents weren't, their parents weren't, your parents weren't. We may be forever young in body, but there is no way to be young in mind once it passes. I grew up incredibly fast. Zo is doing the same at her own hand. It's my decision not to lie to her the way my parents lied to me. You lived a different life."

He glanced at my fingers and traced my arms up to my face. I cradled my cup and brought it to my lips. "Where are the scars?" he finally asked. I smiled. "Inside. You might find it hard to believe, but I've always been a bit of a wuss when it came to pain."

He snorted. I grinned; Bram had let on. That little shit. I returned to my seat and put my hands down on the countertop with my palms raised. My skin was so white, but the insides of my arms were still a shade whiter. "I used to trace my veins. I knew there was blood in there, but it always amazed me. I took from someone else to keep my own moving. I was so young when the human world effected us. I think I was about eight when my parents tried to split up. The problem was...my father thought it was my mother's responsibility to take me. She had gotten pregnant, she had given birth, she was responsible for that much. But she saw it as his fault that I had been born in the first place, and I was in a situation where I was wanted by neither party, even though I was wanted by both. It was very confusing. Obviously I had been growing up before then, but between eight and eleven, it really surged ahead. Then it was on a steam train ahead of everyone else from there."

"What happened at eleven?" he asked as he leaned over and grabbed one of the jars of candy off the other side of the countertop.

"They stopped fighting." And I made my own decisions, but Sean didn't have to hear that.

He popped a caramel in his mouth and rolled it around on his tongue. He crumpled the wrapper between his fingers and set it down on the table. "When Bram was little, our father wasn't...happy with him. For obvious reasons. We didn't have an exceptionally happy household either, he was just incredibly good at escaping it."

Immediately, my mind flashed to taking off through the vineyard on the back of a thoroughbred war horse. Sean seemed to catch my understanding, scoffing lightly as he smiled. "Physically and mentally, yeah. Little shit used to climb down the side of the outer walls and go sleep in the fields until dawn. He wasn't really sleepin' out there, but he always said he wasn't doin' anything, so...it was sleepin'."

I shook my head. "He was thinking." Just the expression on Sean's face was enough to make me smile. It wasn't a very difficult conclusion to come to; my Bram, laying out in the high grasses of the moors. Stars like glitter on a sky made of inky blue velvet. Toying with something, always toying with something, his head cushioned by his forearm and his clothes already begetting the artist he was going to be. The artist he already was. I smirked and took a sip of tea as I voiced the last inquiry to polish off my illusion. "Did he have long hair?"

Sean stared at me in disbelief until relinquishing the information to me. "Our father used to say he should've been born a girl."

The sharp, Irish snap that I heard from the other room made it my turn to laugh.  
"Ah, shut it in front 'a the kid!" Sean replied.  
"I can't pronounce that!" Zofie shouted, as if the lack of Gaelic grammar was the only thing keeping her from understanding. I rose, taking my tea with me. His eyes flicked to me and he rose a brow, "Where y' goin'?"

"Upstairs. Much like Bram keeps an eye on you, I have to go make sure _my_ brother hasn't gotten himself murdered since I spoke to him last." I patted his shoulder in passing and ascended the stairs, taking the glimpse of my husband and our daughter playing with his arcade game and cherishing it as I did everything else. It wasn't typical for the light to be on in the evening, not unless we intended to stay up and watch something, but I turned on the overhead lights instead of the lamps tonight. I set the gold, crimson and white cup down on the desk and took everything in. Our rich, crimson duvet over the black satin sheets. The wood, though loved, so perfect still. Sean had done such a good job creating this place for us that it felt surreal. After seven years, it was as if we hadn't lived here long at all. Seven years and the terrible twos.

I slid into my chair and propped my elbows on the desk. For a very long time, I stared at the delicate frames of the pictures on the ledge. My lily-glass lamp with the antique brass finish, dark now but ready to produce a white-gold glow at the flick of a switch. The faux iron with black-edged rims and the legitimate ones. Every picture in them had been replaced over time at least once. Where they had once held the precious memorabilia of my limited travels, they had been changed to the highlights of my life. The impromptu summer break trip to Burning Man, in which Vinnie painted himself like Tanto and crashed the Impala; the first time I had felt like I was part of a family. My wedding day, thanks to the blessing that was Paul Bathory. Zo. Zo at graduation with us. Zo at regular intervals until the most recent addition; Zofie in my arms, her father's arms draped adoringly around the both of us. She obscured the framed documents that were the whole point of the picture and our love for her and each other obscured the pride we could've had if we were lived a life like Laura's.

I brought my computer to life and ran my fingers through my hair. As I sipped on the full-figured fruit taste of tea, I signed on and waited. A part of me hoped to see nothing but pictures of his new life. A new house, Chariclo galore. Sheer, romantic honesty and legitimate happiness, that was all I wanted for him. I massaged my forehead and set my teacup on the desktop once again. The older or more educated a being became, the more sentimental they grew. I heard the running steps and the ones that followed moments later. With my suspicions confirmed at a glance, I rose and tugged open the door.

Bram's presence greeted me immediately. He caught me gently around the waist and kissed me softly. "Zo's getting ready for bed, so should we."

I toyed with the undone top button of his shirt, "Shall we watch Sherlock Holmes tonight or that pretend-murder reality show?"

He sighed and pretended to think. "What about the one with the maids?"

I shrugged, stealing a kiss of my own. "Whatever you'd like."

He slid his fingers into my hair, cupping the back of my neck and pressing his forehead gently to mine. I smiled, nuzzling my nose to his in a teasing Eskimo kiss. He broke into a childish grin. "I love you."

"I love _you_," I murmured.

"_Mo-om!_" Zofie called. I couldn't help but grin as he released me. Zo wandered out of her room, halfway stuck in her pajamas. I laughed and righted the twisted strap around her head, tenderly tugging her hair free of the loop it had created. She huffed and smoothed her shirt as if she'd tussled with it. I kissed her head and scooped her up, "Are you ready for bed? No story, no song...?"

She smiled, her fingers laced gently in my hair. "I'll take a story."

I laid her down in her bed and pulled her covers up around her little body. "Hm...would you like to hear about the great Batsby?"

"You mean Gatsby?" she asked, so very obviously having heard the story before.

"Well...with a twist, sugar plum. You see...when we were up in Long Island in the nineteen-twenties, your uncle might've blabbed a bit to a man by the name of Fitzgerald. Maybe hinted at Gatsby and Daisy...on his own terms."

Her eyes went wide in utter disbelief, "You are _not_ Daisy Buchanan. I may be beautiful but I am not a fool and I do not have siblings."

I laughed, toying with her hair, "Of course not, my darling. That was a thought of Valentine's to protect the innocent. Would you like to hear the real story?"

Skepticism in her eyes, she sunk into her bed and nestled against me. I curled a lock of hair around my finger as I laid my head against hers, lowered my tone and began at the beginning of the story of my mind. "It wasn't nineteen twenty-three, it was nineteen twenty-one, and your father and I had just come in to a rather large sum of money from a friend who happened to work aboard a little ship crossing the Atlantic a few years back, and we were looking to have a good time with our own dime..."


	57. Chapter Fifty-Seven

_Chapter Fifty-Seven_

Her fingers traced a pattern on my chest. I tried to follow the shapes with just my sense of touch while my eyes remained somewhat focused on the vampire history program that we had managed to make use of a bit earlier. I could feel her ear pressed over my heart and I fought the urge to fall asleep beneath the soft caressing. I trailed my fingers up and down her spine, skimming the edges of her hair on each brush. Gently, I removed her glasses and set them on the nightstand beside me.  
"Do you think they'll let it go?" she murmured.

I slipped my fingers into her hair and kissed the top of her head. "I know they will."  
A small smile flickered across her lips and I turned down the volume a bit more to allow her to sleep. Her silken skin was warm, an arm draped across my chest as if I were a pillow and she needed me to soothe her to sleep. I toyed with her hair, smoothing it before curling a lock gently around my finger. In the first stages of falling asleep, it was the action of being touched that put her to sleep. Holding her, tending to her, it all worked very well. I debated sleeping through what I knew needed to be done. I did have time...not much, but I had time, a nap wouldn't hurt...

The door opened slowly. At first, I thought it was Zofie coming to join us all curled up in our blankets, but the remembrance of what had just transpired entered my mind and I perked up, "Zo, hang on a minute..." I bent down to grab my sleeping trousers and nearly had a heart attack when Sean handed them to me. He was grinning like the fucking Cheshire cat. Adrenaline surging through my veins certainly did the job that cuddling my wife was conflicting. Gory rolled over in her sleep, curling up and burying her face into the pillow. Call it habit, as I rose I tucked my blanket around her. She hardly noticed. I pulled on my pants and glanced to my brother.

"You have enough time to make yourself presentable from the waist up and get some coffee in you," he said in a rather quiet tone, "But Dad isn't going to be happy."

"Is he ever?" I replied. I grabbed my shirt off the floor and went into the bathroom. I combed my hair and swiped cool water over my eyes to fight away the haze of rest. It was something about the moment after being awoken when drifting to sleep that felt twice as energizing as waking regularly did. Sean was hardly what our parents would've considered presentable, naked except for his oversized underwear that I was rather convinced was double-layered since the prat was too lazy to wash his own clothes on a regular basis. In silence, I followed him downstairs and grabbed the freshly brewed cup of coffee off the counter. He perched in one of my chairs before I could ask if they were clean. His eyes flicked up to me, taking note of my expression of horror and rolled his eyes, "Oh for the love 'a Mike. Yes, they're clean."

I joined him at the counter while he logged onto his laptop. The background caught my eye, and for a moment I rose a brow, "Is that Zo?"

"Nah, that's Kiera. She's my friend from work's daughter. Little thing just turned three. He sends me pictures all the time." I rose a brow, but left it at what it was. He glanced to me while the his screen continued loading and tugged the microphone out of its jack. "What?"

"What do you mean what?" It was too late and I had done too much in the day to play these word games with him, but that thought was fading with the more awake I became. Each drink brought a little more alertness to my system. I shouldn't have been actively aware of that, but I was as much as Sean was paranoid. I rose the mug to my lips in an attempt to contain a smirk, "What, you're not sleeping with him, are you?"

The color drained from my brother's face. I realized why he'd unplugged the microphone and lowered my cup. "Holy Scandal in Belgravia. That's why I've never seen you with a woman for a very long time."

He shot me a pointed look like our parents might hear if they signed on. I don't think he understood that it wasn't how the internet worked.

"You're gay," I said, setting my mug on the counter. "You're gay and I'm the one Dad's picked on. The _golden son_ likes..." He was turning red. I leapt up from my chair and threw my arms around his neck, laughing in relief. He paused, hesitating as he swallowed his breath. "You're not...intending to tell anyone, are you?"

I withdrew. His eyes were widened slightly in muted terror. I quirked my head and sunk back into my seat, laughing. "Do you know me at all, or have you just never read all fifteen thousand volumes of vampire literature? I think we're genetically opposed to heterosexuality."

His brows rose. I rolled my eyes, "We had our wild college days before college, don't act like you didn't think so." My eyes flickered to the screen, the corners of my lips threatening to widen my smile. "So, should I entertain the idea of having a niece to spoil?"

Our parents popped online. He shot me a look as he plugged the microphone in. Nearly immediately, they sent us a video call request and we accepted, making room beside each other to ensure it looked like nothing was amiss. I knew immediately that they knew otherwise. My mother was not dressed, her hair still pinned up and her face bare of makeup. Our father looked exhausted, and in that exhaustion, quite a bit older than he should've. I set down my coffee and leaned forward, "Is everything alright?"

"We should ask you the same thing," Mum said gently. "We've heard about the council."

"I'm leaving tonight," Dad cut in. "Your mother is bringing in the rest of the family here. We're presenting a united front, should they attempt any intimidation."

"We know," Sean said. "That was why I came."

I hadn't entirely concluded why she had wanted my brother here and not her own. If there was any one being alive more capable of being a king than my wife, I would've been surprised. The immediate retaliation was a quiet one, but a powerful one. Perhaps we would summon the others again. They could fear Dracula and the council as they liked, but they feared me more. They knew enough of me to know Dracula was not the greatest source of their fear.  
"Bram," Mum said gently. I lifted my eyes in surprise. She watched me with worry in her gaze, her eyes shining like crystals in the way only a mother's eyes could. I forced a small smile. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she whispered, "How are my girls?"

"Asleep," I murmured. "Zo is rather oblivious to the danger she's in. I've told her, but Sean has provided quite the distraction." My brother smiled slightly. Our father rubbed his hands over his face and muttered quiet cursing in our native Gaelic- the less modernized version. Mum began to let down her hair and sighed, blinking as if she were fighting tears. "Sean, I want you to watch out for your little brother. I know y' always have, but I mean it this time. You boys are gonna have to look out for each other over there, unless you bring them here."

I shook my head. "She'd never agree to that. Gory doesn't run."

"Oh for God's sake."  
My mother shot my father a look at his utterance. He raised his head and tried to meet my gaze. Since it was only through a screen, what could've been unnerving came off as simply ridiculous. "She's your wife," he said with a bit more force than necessary, "You built the house, you put her in it, you make the rules."

"She carried my child no matter the difficulty it caused her, and she has given me the greatest joy of my existence. She comes first." From the way he looked at me, even thousands of miles away, the understanding sat between us that we would never have peace with each other. At the very center of the both of us, we hated each other. He held tightly to the old world and gave the new world slight leeway. I knew he adored Gory, all of my family did, and because of it he wouldn't dare voice those opinions in front of her. The knowledge that he still held them was enough to set him on edge with me.

"I'm sending him with food," Mum continued. "Something nice for Zo. I want you both to try to make it easy on them. They're under a lot of stress, it's harder on girls than it is on men."

"We know, Mum," Sean murmured.

She pressed her fingers to her lips and touched the screen. I wished I could lace my fingers through hers now, tell her things and ask for her advice alone. I wanted to ask if there was a possibility she would join us, but all the same I understood why she had decided to stay home with our family. There were children among them that needed tending to, especially if we weren't leaving and some of their parents had the possibility of following our father. I kissed my fingertips and pressed them back, and Sean beside my own. Through the gaps in his, I could see the way my father's eyes flashed to her. We could hate each other all we liked, but I could never entirely deny that he had redeeming qualities, his love for my mother being the primary one.

"I am going to video call you every day," she promised. Behind that bright smile, she was terrified. I could see it in her eyes and it tore my heart open. "You two are going to take care of yourselves and not let your father get too out of hand, because he's still watching his blood pressure. Alright?"

"Of course," I murmured. "And you'll take care of yourself. If you get too tired, go rest. We have staff, Mum. Don't worry about us. We're Devein men."

"We get De job done," Sean teased. I could've slammed my head into the countertop. My father's head sunk back into his hands, successfully completing my thought process. She looked at me, imploring me with her eyes as she always had to make sure his shoes were tied properly and the child leash was well adjusted. I nodded and ruffled my brother's hair, "Ah, someone dropped you and never fessed up."

He swatted my hand away, "Shut up."

"Boys," Mum cut in. I couldn't help but smile. It felt like we were still a family, even across oceans. She sighed and met my eyes, "I'll come t' see you when I can, I promise."

"I know. So will we." I laid my hand palm-up on the countertop and smiled. "I miss you."

She laid her hand palm down. "I love you. Take care of everyone."

"Always do."

I waited. They were like any other parents for a moment. Our father's head lifted and he looked at Sean, then he looked at me. I was not the golden son that my brother was, but that seemed to make him all the more inclined to rush to my aid when the time came. There was a great deal of guilt in his expression. My mother's delicate hands rested on his shoulder, rubbing away the tension. I couldn't imagine being an ocean away from Gory, I couldn't admit that I understood how they managed. I suppose when two people fell deeply enough in love, anything became possible. She'd never sit at home, maybe that was why. Even if I tried to make her, she'd follow me. Maybe I had fulfilled the age-old prophecy and found a woman who fulfilled what I thought my parents' marriage had needed. An equilibrium instead of polar opposites. Our father got up to leave and our mother lingered just a moment before ending the call, and then I looked at Sean.

"I'm sorry."

His eyes tore from the screen, brow furrowing. His fist was pressed to his lips, an action he always maintained when he was holding in emotions.

"You said he sends you pictures. He's not a friend from work here. When you had to come here, you had to leave him. Just like Dad has to leave the family. And I'm sorry." I gathered my cup, suddenly very awake, and pushed in my chair. "Apparently I'm not good for much but taking people away from where they belong lately."

"It's alright," he said, removing his hand. "It's...I'll go home eventually, he knows that."

"And if you don't? If the council decides they really want us wiped out, they can try. They won't succeed, but there will be casualties."

"You got me shot the last time I came to save your ass and I still came," he said, enunciating every word very slowly as if I were the one whose intelligence people questioned. "You are my little brother. I love you. I love your wife and I love your daughter. We are a family, and as family I intend nothing short of never leaving you behind. You never left anyone else."

As easy as it was to value my mind over my skill, the evidence to my lineage was too great to ignore. I had fought in the werewolf-vampire wars and I was still alive to speak of it with no particular scars to bare. Many a battle had come afterward, from combat training classes to the showdowns elsewhere. If there was anything my family was known for, it was our tenacity against oppression. We were Irishmen. We fought the Brits before we fought anyone else.

My brother had a life that was more normal than I expected, but hadn't mine grown to be? My days were filled with working from home, playing with my daughter and adoring my wife. Sean pushed his chair back suddenly and stood. He hesitated, then. I still had a mug full of coffee in my hands and he was not the best conveyor of emotion. So I set down the cup and I closed the distance to pull my older brother close. "Our father is a walking stereotype," I said out loud. "There is always more to being alive than meets the eye. You shouldn't have to hide."

He squeezed me like I was still a toddler, and as deeply as the logical part of my mind hated being hugged by my brother in general, it was a rare occasion and I accepted it. The emotion behind it should not have been buried. Not now, when time had the potential to be precious.

It struck me like lightning. I knew my daughter better than anyone else in the world, but the council didn't. The child, my brother's almost-child, looked like her, but was not her. I withdrew sharply and grabbed his shoulders, "Sean, you need to tell me everything about that little girl and quickly."

His brows rose, "Why?"

"Because I have an idea. And it's going to require a little creativity."


	58. Chapter Fifty-Eight

_Chapter Fifty-Eight_

I woke up with a start and immediately snapped my head back and forth, making sure that what I saw was not an illusion. My fingers drifted across the blurry nightstand for my glasses before I remembered they were on Bram's. I crawled across the bed, still half-suffocated by the sheets, my hand extended for them, even though I couldn't see quite well enough to make out what part of them I was grabbing. I didn't have to see very well to know when my hand was grabbed and when a pair of small figures leapt out from under the bed, screaming "BOO" at the tops of their lungs.

"Zo, hand me my glasses," I said.

She passed them off as her little companion sighed. "I told you she doesn't get scared," Zofie replied to the sigh. I slid them on, attempting not to stab myself in the face in the process. She came into view, every bit the cherubic little doll that plagued my nightmares. She climbed up on the bed with me and cuddled into my arms. I pressed her tightly against the hollow of my throat, completely unsurprised when her little fangs found purchase. Every so often, she still took nips of my blood, she was still small enough that I didn't feel the urge to push her away. I had dreamed of keeping her safe in an attack, but her stubbornness was all too real, so I had given her a little push. Down the steps she'd fallen, to lay motionless on the hardwood below. I was damned whether I saved her or not, and perhaps she was too. If I could absorb her back into myself, I could defend her more easily. Her tiny tongue was cool, brushing the wound she created like a pup at a water bowl. When she felt she'd taken enough, she gave it a kiss and moved away, just like her father. Combing my fingers through my hair, I looked around our room, dimly lit with the morning light. "Where is your father?"

"Asleep downstairs," she said with a tiny smile. Aleksi tugged at the bow on the back of her skirt and ran from the room. Her hands flashed there and she shot a look of absolute contempt at his back. I moved to the edge and restored the bow to its previous state. Zo was only patient enough to endure that; she took off after him immediately upon her release. I debated fighting the sleep still lingering in my eyes with more sleep, but that wouldn't accomplish anything. Forcing myself to my feet, I nudged the door shut. He had been asleep here when I had fallen asleep, though I didn't doubt his ability to wake in the middle of the night to worry. I dressed rather quickly, heading off downstairs in case no one else was awake yet. Despite Aleksi's arrival, neither of his parents were in sight, though breakfast had obviously been tended to. _Salem Municipal Airfield, 7:30_ was scrawled on the white board in Sean's sloppy scrawl. The kids' plates and probably his own were sitting in the sink. No, it wasn't his, too clean. Rain must've tended to everything. That explained the third plate, Sean wasn't up yet.

I wandered off into the den to find her dusting. The door to the veranda was ajar, but the light was cast so not to fall on Bram. He was sprawled over the sofa, feet propped up on one end and his head supported by a throw pillow on the other. His arm dangled off to brush the floor, the other draped across his chest and apparently prime nesting ground for Sabby. Her eyes followed me like glowing coals as I went up to Rain and kissed the top of her head. She smiled, "Did y' sleep well?"

"All things considered, as well as possible." She flitted out from my grip, cleaning with the quick little movements of a baby bird. I watched her as she went about cleaning every shelf, making almost every book look pristine, save for the ones I had thoroughly abused. My eyes flicked to Bram. He looked so exhausted, all of his papers strewn around him. "What's at Salem Municipal Airport tonight?"

"Hm?" It took Rain a moment to register my question. She glanced to me, brows raised, "The boys' father is coming in. They didn't tell you?"

I shook my head. Sinking down beside him, I picked up his notebook and the books he had left strewn around his sleeping place. There were some bits in the backs of human books of ours on magic trick hoaxes orchestrated by twins, instead of real magic. I laughed under my breath. Rain's eyes flicked over. I dog-eared the corner of each page as I shut the books and tucked them under the coffee table, out of sight and out of the way. I shut his notebook and tucked it between them. Though she continued cleaning, she waited for me to respond. Dusting my hands on my skirt and rising, I did. "If he thinks Sean can pass for his twin, he's lost his mind."

"I don't think they were talkin' about them, but I didn't hear much."  
He must've fallen asleep rather recently. I ran my fingers softly through his hair, sweeping it back from his eyes. His skin was so soft, the same flawless alabaster of a marble figure. I tucked his hand up with the rest of him and scratched Sabbath behind the ears until she rolled onto her back, nuzzling him on reflex. She became a blanket of feline contentment, rendered inert with a soft belly rub. To no greater surprise than her own, his nose twitched and caused a little snore to slip free. It startled her into dashing up the back of the couch and scrambling into the main room and up the stairs as if someone had shot at the china.

"When did they go to sleep?"  
His lips parted slightly, revealing the bases of his pearly fangs. I nearly laughed; he smelled like a high school study session. All pizza and energy drinks that had clearly fueled this crash right down to the last lingering twitch of his fingers. Rain paused at the doors and shut them with a sigh. "It's a nice day, Zo and Aleksi should take advantage of it."

"Attempting to play twins?" I teased. She shrugged. I sighed; it was not a typical occurrence to be without company, yet I didn't have the heart to wake either of them. I wandered back into the kitchen and sat down to eat, listening to the slow, lazy heartbeat of Sammy sleeping on the tile. I savored everything as best I could, watching the glistening golden light spilling over the leaves and onto the grass before being coated in passing clouds. Vaguely, I wondered if it were a full moon.

There was a rapid pounding at the door, and with my plate in tow I dashed up to get it before it woke the boys. Wrenching the lock open and intending to snap at the being on the other side, Draculaura flung her arms around my neck and shrieked with a beaming smile. "You would never believe it!"

I paused, eggs still on my fork and my door still open. Clawd was parking and waved to me. I saluted in reply and nudged the door shut, attempting to free myself from her grip to no avail. "You learned how to curb your enthusiasm?"

She beamed, "My father got the council to lay off."

I nearly dropped my fork. That wasn't possible. That had never been done, not since...

I nearly dropped my plate. I set it down on the couch and turned to her, staring at her insanely beaming face. I swallowed and stared at her. My eyes were welling up. I started shaking my head at the same time she started nodding. She slid her arms around my waist and beamed. Her fingers wound in the back of my shirt. I fumbled with my glasses to take them off before the waterworks began. "Are you serious?" I whispered, "Are you absolutely joking with me right now?"

She shook her head and pressed her face against my shoulder. I clutched her. I threw my glasses down on the cushion beside my plate and hugged her as tightly as I could while attempting to be gentle. It was like a pair of mentos trapped in highly carbonated water; our enthusiasm built, the shock setting in and bubbling up from our toes to our mouths. Somehow, I was the first one who screamed. "_A royal baby?!"_

"A royal baby!" she shrieked. Poor Clawd had turned the door knob and had to back away for the sake of his canine senses. Our vocal assault summoned someone, though. Sean came tearing down the stairs with a cricket bat in his hands, clad in nothing but a pair of batman boxers. I could tell that much even without my glasses, simply because I'd seen it before. Draculaura wrenched open the door and jumped into her husband's arms. I tore into the den and practically jumped on Bram to wake him.

He awoke with a start at my none-too-gentle tugging, his eyes wide and bleary for a moment before squinting to focus and locking on me. "Gory, what in all hell are you doing?"

I clapped my hand over my mouth. I was going to scream. I was going to cry. Whether he sensed my delight or was just alarmed that I wasn't wearing glasses and had managed not to run into the wall, one of the two made him rise. He led me into the other room by my waist, clearly not trusting a repeat event. I went for my glasses in time to see Zo and Aleksi run to the top of the stairs, "What happened?"

For the first time in almost too long, Clawd broke away from his mate's side and opened his arms for his adopted niece. "You're getting a little cousin, squirt!"

Immediately, it was like she'd forgotten about Aleksi. He was only the Pugsly in her grand scheme, and now they had contributed another little Addams to our strange family tree. Bram slid up to me, his arms winding around my back. I linked my fingers through his shirt and gave a tender tug, "The only thing that can make old men forget about war."

He grinned and clasped my hand to his chest enthusiastically. "There might be a slight problem, considering what we've put in play..."

Sean looked embarrassed and slightly horrified. Aleksi just hung out at the top of the stairs, waiting for her to return. Zo raced down to Clawd and launched herself into his arms. He scooped her up, kissing her tiny, cherubic face and squeezing her half to death. My delicate little girl, wrapped in the large wolf's arms. It should've terrified me half to death. I trusted him. It wasn't a farfetched statement, but it was groundbreaking for someone like me. I had trusted him with Laura, now I trusted him with Zo. He had proven himself to be very gentle with delicate things thus far. He set her down tenderly and she rushed to her father to be picked up. She beamed, "Can Uncle Val come over? So we can all be together, all of us? He can bring his Cupid."

I laughed, "I'll call him, alright?"

If it was possible, her smile grew. I fetched my plate and dashed up past the boys to go retrieve my phone from the bedroom. Instead of calling my brother first, I sent a message to the one man whose I would owe my gratitude for the next century or more. _Thank you for letting it slip. Clawd was having a hell of a time keeping it a secret._


	59. Chapter Fifty-Nine

_Chapter Fifty-Nine_

It was a celebration for our people in general. "The luck of the Irish," Sean declared after having a brew too many, "is upon us."  
I didn't know if I could entirely go with that. Our luck was about five foot and pretending to be oblivious ninety percent of the time. The way she'd held herself in the past short while, she'd known. A part of me wanted to know just how much she knew about everything else around her. Draculaura was infinitely smarter than she looked or acted, but that was all part of her game. Every other vampire on the planet was content with showing off, showing everyone else up. She wanted everyone else to think they were better, just on the off chance she had to prove herself and tear them down. There was an off chance Draculaura was even more cruel than her father, but considering the worry he'd put me through when she had been actively attempting to ease it, the odds were in her favor.

Valentine and Cupid sat at the bistro table while my slightly intoxicated brother in law cooked half-raw meat over the enclosed fire pit. Zo, in her pretty little dress, and Aleksi dashed about through the yard, pursuing their childish escapades. Clawd and Draculaura had brought out chairs of their own, despite the likeliness that we would go inside to eat. Rain and I occupied the kitchen while Bram drove out to the airfield to pick up his father.  
"It's the best we've gotten along in years," she said, grating cheese into the bowl of dressing-coated salad. I produced the rolls from the oven with a flourish and went immediately to buttering them so it had time to absorb. She stole a glance over her shoulder, smiling at me as she continued. "Sean and Bram are on rocky terms sometimes, y'know, but not as bad as they've been with their dad. He's never been very helpful with either of them. It's probably a war lord thing, you know? Can't show softness or people will want ya dead."

I grinned, "I understand completely."

The doors swung in, Rolling Stone blasting from outside. I paused to hear the running footsteps as they tore in. Vinnie grinned, scooping me up as if I were his younger sister and squeezing me tightly. He kissed my forehead firmly and turned to declare to everyone else, "We got it! Friend of a friend let the listing close early!"

Valentine raised his glass in salute. Vinnie stormed out in his leather and denim glory, shouting to the vast expanse of yard, "Ponyboy! Johnnycake! Did ya hear?!"

I shook my head, lowering my gaze to the rolls as they were cut and buttered. The music cut blessedly and I heard the door of the Impala shut. Moments later, Natasha closed the door and breezed through the house on clicking heels to join us in the kitchen. She beelined for the sink to wash up, leaving Vinnie's keys near the toaster and flashing me a smile of muted amusement. "He nearly kissed Ruth out of sheer joy. I'm debating an open marriage."

Laughter bubbled from my lips before I could contain it. "Yes, you sharing Vinnie. That's a laugh."

Rain glanced back to us as if waiting for Natasha to disclose any news from her little crush. His whereabouts were to remain unknown, it seemed. I grinned. I transferred the rolls to a platter while the boys' celebration occurred outside, growing louder and more rowdy by the moment. Val and Clawd had joined his enthusiasm with their own news. Before long, Sean had them trying to catch Aleksi's frisbee. It seemed like the role of female kind to be doomed to keeping men in line.

"Sean!" I called. He lifted his head. I glanced down toward the food he was cooking. He grinned, "Give me a minute, princess!"

"I'm the queen," I called back.

"Yeah, your brother's still a bigger queen than you!"

Even if he was on the more intoxicated side of coherent, I couldn't pretend he was lying. Clawd and I burst into laughter. Chariclo and Draculaura went varying shades of disapproving pink. My best friends, the source of my happiness, had become the strangest shade of a family imaginable. Draculaura rose to take the seat beside Cupid. I stole a glance at the clock. Zo and Aleksi were laugh-cheering; they must've been playing with Clawd.

"Someone seems preoccupied," Natasha teased. Rain and I both flushed.

"I haven't seen my father in law in quite some time," I said quickly. "And I can't cook Irish food for my life."

"You're doing beautifully, Gory," Rainy murmured. Regardless, I started setting the table. "Will someone bring water to a boil to warm up the blood bags in? We can pour the warm ones in the wine pitcher."

"He likes you already, Gory," Natasha murmured. She attempted to soothe me as best as she could, but she knew I was far too gone in my anticipation to worry about it. The best that could come of it could be the boys getting to fix their relationship with their father. The worst, I didn't even want to consider. Aleksi dashed over to his mother and squeezed her legs tightly. She shuffled about with him attached to her, drawing my attention out to locating Zo. She sat between Val and Clawd, the tiny and powerful link between them that could pause any potential warfare. I could only hope she had that effect on everyone.

"Dinner!" Sean called. He carried in the scalding tray of meat, setting it upon the stove regardless of what was there. I grabbed one of the racks out and guided him to transport it to the counter as our family poured in. I waited for the sounds of an approach up the drive, my ears so high on alert that every shift of movement became registered. Natasha brought the food to the table. Sean helped me finish setting places while the others settled in, and Rainy guided the little ones upstairs to wash up. They settled in, drinks being grabbed and poured and conversations occurring so freely that it wasn't until I heard the very heavy sound of a solid metal door being locked into place that I paused, and coincidentally everything paused. Sean plopped in his chair and saluted the table, "God save the king."

I shot him a look and rushed through the front room, wiping my buttery hands on the apron around my waist. Call it stereotypical, I thought I'd have the time to take it off. I tugged open the door and put on my best hostess smile. The older vampire set his bag on the steps and stepped forward, the hard, gemstone coldness in his eyes melting upon seeing me. My eyes widened, the action going unnoticed as he pulled me firmly against his chest and crushed me in a familiar embrace.

"Gory, y' look even more beautiful than y' did on your weddin' day, if that's even possible." He kissed the top of my head. Was I in the twilight zone? Hadn't we just had a discussion of how he was a _war lord_ who refused to show kindness to anyone, even his own children? Bram picked up the bag and toted it and another up the stairs in his father's wake. The garage door was still lowering. My father in law ushered me inside and paused in the main hall. He had seen it before, but he didn't seem to have truly cared until now. He took everything in as if he had never seen the house before.

The shock of red hair at the top of the stairs paused, and so did he in his examination. There was adoration dripping from his tone, "Rainy."

"Uncle," she murmured, her face flushing. Zofie grinned and took off down the stairs, running straight to him with open arms, "Grandpa!"

He paused for a moment, taken aback by the little, delicate thing that she was. Surely he'd expected different with the council seeing her as a threat. He scooped her up regardless, pressing her to his chest as if she were his own, "Zofie."

She nodded. Bram entered, setting his father's bags down and grabbing the door. I kissed him softly, set to take one and share the responsibility, when I heard the carefully composed facade crack. He exhaled very slowly, drawing both of our eyes to her. She smiled, perched on his side as if she were perched on a giant. He tucked her silken gold hair behind her ear, a tender point just like mine at its crest. She had tiny, little girl earrings of multicolored flowers in. She watched her grandfather with a gaze made of gems, coated in innocence and full of purity. He studied her before glancing to us, sweeping her around in his arms and making her giggle.

"This is the child the council fears," he nearly growled. Zofie didn't fear him for a second, not even with the lowered, defensive tone.

Bram nodded. Despite his tension, I knew the way his father was looking at our daughter. He'd never had one of his own before, or if he had, he didn't pay particular attention to her. He regarded Zofie again for another moment before gently setting her on her feet, "You've gotten so big. I remember when you were just...little bitty."

She smiled to humor him, glancing to us as if asking for truth to his words. I picked up his suitcase and nudged her back gently toward the kitchen, "Go settle in, we'll be right there."

"Is that one yours?" he asked as Rain guided Aleksi after her.

"That's Zofie's playmate," Bram replied. He paused beside me and took the suitcase gently, finally having the moment to return the kiss I had given him. "I've got it."

I nodded, silently promising him we would discuss everything later. He flashed me a small smile and nodded toward the stairs, "Come on, Dad. Let's at least show you your room before dinner."

I heard another car pulling up the drive and slowing down; the squeaking breaks of one not well cared for. I glanced out the door to catch a glimpse of a young man, rather mortal looking...no, he was. There was a mortal on my lawn, opening up the back of his car to retrieve a toddler that resembled Zofie quite a bit.

I quirked my head slightly, "So was this your plan?"

Bram paused on the stairs. Immediately, the chair in the kitchen was shoved aside and Sean came blazing out. He shot me a desperate glance and stole out into the yard before I had time to say anything. Surely he hadn't expected me not to pay attention, but as he rushed to them, I paused. I had seen that look before, in my own eyes.

_That's certainly a plot twist I didn't see coming._


	60. Chapter Sixty

_Chapter Sixty_

If there was a possibility to have any more awkward of a moment than dinner, we had found it. Bram's father hadn't wanted to enter the comfort of home that was the den with total strangers, so we held our makeshift business in the main room. The mortal sat on the floor with a clearly half-breed child, the elder Lord Devein glaring at his oldest son with more spite than anyone wanted to acknowledge. Zofie, oblivious to it all, took up half of the attention of everyone in the room by sitting with her self-proclaimed baby twin and messing with the all too lustrous blond locks of the little girl. They were shorter than Zofie's, but apparently still very able to braid. Vaguely, I wondered if Valentine or Draculaura had taught her that trick. Sean might've put it in a rather cruel connotation, but Val did put effort into adapting to his niece's needs, braiding hair and memorizing the various breeds of horses and types of flowers being some of them. Clawd and Draculaura had slipped away rather sympathetically- I would've never guessed that they had any idea what the awkward first meeting was like, considering she had been his babysitter before his wife- while Vinnie and Natasha had gone upstairs to pack and Valentine took Chariclo on a tour of the grounds.

The ticking of the clock was the loudest sound in the room, save for the heartbeat of the mortal man and his child. Despite the earlier display, he remained on the floor with her while Sean perched in the chair, unlike Bram and I; he took the seat, I took the arm. In front of his father, taking his lap seemed degrading when he needed to see me as my husband's equal. Zofie hummed to herself while tracing her ornate brush through Kiera's hair, breaking the silence to pull us all into her childish world. The mortal seemed to soften and relax, flashing her a warm little smile. She beamed in reply, flashing her sharp and pearly teeth, "You're pretty for a boy. Are you a boy?"

He laughed lightly, "Yeah. Are you?"

Zofie giggled. "I like you. You're silly."

I watched her more than I watched the males, and I would admit to that openly. She had never attempted to dumb herself down for anyone before. It turned a knot in my stomach to think that maybe she wasn't; as much as she understood, she was still innocent. Was it even possible? I had wanted to give her the knowledge to cope with the world early, to adapt better to her environment and force down any of the bigots in her path. Perhaps we'd done a better job than we thought.

"Zo," Bram finally said softly, "Why don't you and Aleksi take your cousin up to your room, show her your frogs?"

"You got frogs?" the little half-mortal said with wide, vastly beautiful eyes. They were a dark, forest green, the rings of black around the edge a little thicker than natural. The human genes had seemed to override her. Her father glanced to her in worry. I glanced down to my husband, massaged his shoulder and rose, "If you'd like to join them, I can give you a tour, too."

The elder Lord scoffed. Immediately, Sean sat up and sobered up. "Why d' ya have t' keep casting disapproving glances at everything we do? We're your sons, we grew up, we're not your problem anymore."

He held his tongue long enough to glance at me. For the sake of the desperate-looking young man, I placed my hand on the back of his shoulder and led him upstairs after our children. Despite his shock, he showed the proper amount of awe at my palace of a home. I tried to contain my fangs as I smiled to him. "My husband designed it, Sean built it from scratch. Every last detail, even down to most furnature and coverings."

Instead of being surprised, he beamed. He had green eyes too, very beautiful green eyes, and dimples in his olive toned cheeks. Slightly chubby and clean-cut, with dark brown hair combed neatly and the warm kind of smile that made a person want to feel those warm, soft-looking lips on their cheeks. He felt very much like Paul at my side, he had the same presence of reserved exuberance. It was like sitting beside a turned-off electromagnet; it had the potential for such great energy that it was exhaustive to comprehend. "I know. He followed Bram's instructions to a T. You really designed it though. He's told me before, he considers this his second-greatest accomplishment."

We took up residence in the doorway of Zofie's bedroom, watching the trio staring into the clear plastic aquarium. With Aleksi in the house, it wasn't safe to house them in glass. For a starter home, though, they seemed content. One swam freely about, looking at them and making them giggle, while the other perched on the rock near the grate of wiring and croaked up a storm. Zo pulled over her foot stool and grabbed the frog food to sprinkle inside. They both dove to their sustenance, delighting all three children. "And she's his first?"

I regarded the child with open curiosity. Clearly, her heart beat with greater tempo, pumping greater blood than Zofie or Aleksi's. She was flush with blood, perhaps her own. I flicked my eyes to him and gestured him out into the hall. "How did you manage her?"

"I have a sister," he replied. "When we decided we were ready, she gave up the egg. She and Sean created Kiera, I kind of got to be spectator."

I patted his knee, "Take it from someone who's done it, pregnancy is not the walk in the park they give you in magazines. They beat you from the inside out, they make you crave Midnight Snack ice cream and paydays all the time because you don't know if you want chocolate or chips, or chips covered in chocolate..." He laughed. We sunk down against the opposite wall in quiet contentment with each other. The kids were playing well. I understood his worry despite that, these were two foreign children who had greater ability than his daughter. I could hear the rising swell of voices and took notice of the way his expression fell. In an attempt to keep things from getting too out of hand, I shifted to sit up and lower my tone, sparing Zo the details. "We're trying for another."

His eyes flicked to me. "Isn't it supposed to be difficult? You know...since you guys are half dead?"

I shook my head, "We're not half dead. Just different genetic makeup. And I wouldn't say it was. We were together for three and a half years before Zofie was born. Pretty regular you-know until the honeymoon. Of course when it happens all the time, something's going to catch."

He snorted. I couldn't help but laugh myself. He flashed me a look and shook his head, "I can't imagine doing it all the time. I really can't." It sent the both of us into a greater round of laughter, drawing our children's attention. They held interest in us only for a moment before returning to Zofie's toys. "Sean's a workaholic," he said as his laughter subsided, "I'm lucky if I get any in a month."

"Oh you poor baby," I gushed. "Hard work runs in the family, but even Bram knows when to call it and come to bed. And then usually it's cuddling in, getting comfortable, and all of a sudden there's extra kissing and trying to push me out of bed getting close." We laughed like teenage girls. It finally occurred to me that we had never officially had introductions. I adjusted my glasses and smiled, "Gory Devein."

"Nathan Banner. Officially, Kiera's name is Kiera Lynn Banner-Devein, but..."

I rose a brow at the mortality of her name. He glanced to me a bit sheepishly, "Lynn was my mother's name. Obviously she's kind of nobility, but...we don't want her to forget. She came from the mortal world, not yours. I lived in New England, not Buckingham Palace. We met at a grocery store, not a masquerade ball, you know? I want her to know that whatever world she chooses, she came from mine." The force to which he felt he had to defend himself to me was admirable. I nodded. "My mother named me Gloria. She was born a mortal too, but I was born well into their marriage. The cells had already become vampiric. Gory's my shortening."

Without warning, the voices boiled into the angry pitches of men intending to fight. Nathan's eyes grew very sad, but I got to my feet and went to handle them as a countess properly did. Bram had stepped between his brother and his father in an attempt to keep them away from each other. I paused at the top of the stairs, let their shouting build my own angered tone, and I shrieked as loudly as I could, "_Silence!_"

The elder Devein went silent. Bram placed his hand on Sean's chest in an effort to force him to go silent, but he refused. If anyone had words to say, it was him. "An' I'm sick of watchin' my little brother sulk around under yer radar because ya think he's not good enough! Bram's a better kinda nobility than you or me! He takes after Mom, and Mom's the only one who deserved that kind of power! Yer an arrogant ass! Yer so used to hurtin' people that all y' can do is hurt yer family! Well I'm fuckin' sick of it! That's my boyfriend and that's our kid, understood?! That's all that's fuckin' that! I don't need a piece of paper approved by a bigot like you to tell me what the fuck I can and can't do and who the fuck I can and can't do it with!"

"He's human." That was the only problem the Lord had to voice. Maybe I wasn't giving the vampire community enough credit after all.

"He won't be forever," Bram interjected. Sean pulled away as if disgusted by the both of them and stalked out the front door. Their father addressed him then, calm and composed enough that it felt as if he'd never risen his voice in the first place. Perhaps he hadn't, he was certainly powerful enough to dominate without shouting. "I know the law was changed to allow this assimilationist romance, but it will never be allowable to me. That child is an abomination, not my granddaughter. If the council should've gone after anything, it's that mockery of our species."

"She is a child, and she is in my household," Bram hissed, "Therefore you will not address her that way."

"That _thing_ will either die or evolve. It will either break it's parents' hearts or become something they have to destroy. If either of you boys spoke to me instead of acting like children, you would know that."

I could see the anger burning in my husband's eyes. He straightened to his full six foot height and stared his father in the eye. "I want you out of my house. My brother treats my family like family, not prisoners of war. I support him and whatever he does, no matter what sub-species he does it with. You are of the homo sapien variety too, father. There's just another little word afterward that separates you from that boy upstairs."

For a moment, I thought he might strike him. He turned instead, flourishing in my direction. "Gory. Speak sense to your husband."

I squared my shoulders and raised my chin like the nobility he thought me to be. Surely he thought he'd won for a moment. "I've carried my own child and suffered for my own child, just as Sean has. When you know what it's like to cradle a little baby in your arms, the absolute relief of hearing them cry for the first time, then you can tell me to speak sense. You're an arrogant being if I have ever met one, _my lord._ You can never tell a mother to side against a child. If you're what's representing our people, then God save the King indeed."

Bram smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. His father's eyes widened to me, and with a flourish of my skirt, I turned on my heel and returned to my very mortal companion.


	61. Chapter Sixty-One

_Chapter Sixty-One_

"Still up for two?" Bram teased, his arms wrapping around my waist. Kiera and Zofie had pinned down Aleksi and were doing anything to him that could hold potential for embarrassment. The poor child already had his hair clutched in stumpy pigtails on the top of his head and the three year old putting little girls' lipstick on his mouth while my daughter painted his nails with her rubbery, meant-to-wash-off nail polish. With all that had already happened to the poor boy, I doubted he was putting up an actual resistance. The way his cheeks went red whenever Zofie tossed him one of those condescending _I've won_ glances seemed like enough evidence to back the conclusion. Kiera was just having fun crawling all over her cousin's playmate and drawing on him with makeup. The hypoallergenic little pallet of glittery eye makeup came next. He put up a real physical struggle for that. "No! You'll have to pour it in my eyes! No!"

"Shut up or we will, prisoner!" Zofie declared, pushing him on the floor and sitting on his stomach while her little cousin laughed profusely.

"We're raising a future totalitarian dictator," Bram murmured. I could feel the presence of his fangs against the side of my head and knew he was grinning as if it were a real accomplishment. Shaking my head lightly, we continued to watch the trio terrorizing each other for a little longer before I broke from his hold to prevent our daughter from causing physical harm to the little boy beneath her. "Alright sweethearts, it's time for bed."

Aleksi looked relieved. Kiera still smacked his cheek and sent a cloud of blush off his face. It had the effect of making both girls dissolve into laughter. Aleksi, however, glared at her until she got up and ran behind my legs. "Lex," I cautioned him.

He sat up, the expression of complete and utter exasperation still on his face. I ruffled his hair, "Come on, you're too young to be so serious."

"I'm too young to be tied down to a woman who does nothing but nag me too," he replied. He ran his little hands over his face. They came away pink. In frustration, he went to the kitchen and hopped up on the stepping stool, immediately attracted to scrubbing his face of all things pink and glittery. I scooped Kiera up and set Zofie down, much to her surprise and very sudden anger. "No," she snapped, "Carry me."

I sighed and scooped her up in my other arm, but she wouldn't stop fussing. "Stop carrying her and carry me!"

"Zofie," I instantly snapped. She was tired and fussy, she'd been this way since she was a baby. Still, she squirmed and kicked and kicked at Kiera, who was whimpering and cuddling progressively closer to me. I passed the half-mortal child off to my husband and stopped at the top of the stairs with Zo still in my grip to pat her bottom firmly. It wasn't quite a spank, but she still didn't like it. She went silent against my shoulder, pouting all the while. Bram's fingers brushed my arm. I nodded; he was going to take Kiera off to her parents to determine where she was going to sleep. When they were out of sight, I carried Zo off to her room. I pressed a kiss to her temple, "Kiera is not as tough as you and Aleksi. If you hit her, you could hurt her."

"I don't care, I don't like her," she hissed, her tiny arms clinging to my neck.

"You were just tormenting your friend with her, I think you like her." I set her down on her bed as I fetched her pajamas. She glared at me. "You carried her. I'm your baby, not her. And I'd push her off a cliff if you forgot that."

It should've been a very disturbing thing to hear, but I burst into laughter. I sunk onto the mattress beside her and scooped her up, pressing her as close to me as she could get. "I know you better than anyone else in the world, Zofie. I carried you around in my tummy for almost a year, you know. I fed you, I changed your diapers, I tuck you in at night..." I squeezed her, rocking her slightly and making her giggle. She pressed her face into my neck, her tiny ear against my pulse. "I know you, baby. You're just like me. You want to be very tough when you're hurt. I promise, there is nothing for you to be hurt over."

She huffed slightly and buried her face into my throat. "Promise?"

"I swear on my life. You are the most precious thing in the world."

Her silken hair brushed my neck. She was getting heavy with sleep. I glanced down at her; she wasn't too dirty, if she did fall asleep it wouldn't be any problem. I carried her to the bathroom and hung up her pajamas, setting her down on her feet. Immediately, she awoke enough to know to go before she went to bed. She shimmied out of her little dress anyway, allowing me to get her mostly dressed while she attempted not to fall asleep. "More important than your books?"

"More important than anything," I whispered.

"More important than Uncle Val?"

"Infinitely."

"Daddy?"

"Tied with Daddy."

She grinned, "Good."

I watched her finish up and wash up, right there beside her to help if she needed it. She didn't. Even for being so little, she was perfectly capable of conducting herself properly. In a tired shuffle, she exited her little bathroom and crawled into bed without waiting for me. By the time I had settled her blankets in around her body, she was soundly asleep on her pillow. I pressed my nose into her hair, kissing her tiny face again. "So cranky when you're tired." It made perfect sense. She'd been awoken by the disruption on the train. I wish I could tell her it only dulled slightly when she'd grow up enough to curse a blue streak at whoever woke her up. She was out like an angel, too tired to even pick up a toy. I tucked her penguin beneath her arm and turned on her nightlight, just in case she woke up in the middle of the night. With a flick of the light switch, I slipped out into the hall. The vague roar of Vinnie's laughter, likely at seeing Aleksi covered in makeup, reached my ears. Rain was playing _Gravedancer_ in her bedroom. I hummed the tune as I slipped into my own.

I produced one of Bram's varsity shirts from the stack of relaxation clothes in my closet, found a few other necessary unmentionables and ducked into our en suite to put a little icing on the cake of a pleasant night in my palace-home. We could stay up all night watching scary things, wrapped in each other's arms and teasing each other about our totally unnecessary fears. I ran my brush through my hair, reveling in the freedom that had been brought upon us. Anyone who said the wealthy were more likely to act with looser morals were right, we had the wealth to fuel knowledge. Morals were a stupid word for the closed-minded outlook of people who didn't have the mental capacity of a high-functioning individual. I slipped my straps from my shoulders, glancing into the mirror to realize something was amiss. I snapped a razor blade out from the drawer and spun on my heel.

"Woah-!" Charlie shouted, toppling back into the shower.

I lowered the blade in utter irritation, "Charles, what in all bloody hell are you doing?"

His cheeks went red, "I was...you know. Bram came. It was easier to go this way..."

I smacked him gently upside the head and grabbed the door, "Out with you."

He headed off gratefully, still red as could be. He paused before I could shut the door, though, turning back and giving me two thumbs up, "You look great for having had a kid!"

"Charlie, go home."

He nodded awkwardly and dashed out before my husband arrived. I shook my head and tossed the razor back down into the drawer. "Boys," I muttered. I shut the door, assembled my things and put the stopper in the bathtub to fill it with water. As the door breezed shut, I smiled. "Long talk with the boys?"

Bram sunk down onto the side of the tub beside me. He tugged me close, burying his lips against my neck desperately. I rose a brow, pressing my lips together to resist the instinctive urge rising and feeling as if it sharpened my fangs. "Sean is simply the most irritating being in the world when he's in a relationship," he nearly growled. I slid my fingers into his hair and gave a firm tug, slipping a growl of approval from his lips. He scooped me up, allowing me to perch on his legs while he left firm little bites over my throat. I unbuttoned his shirt, intent on making him join me whether he liked it or not.

"I think he might think the same," I teased.

He simply growled and flicked his shirt into the corner. "No, you don't understand. He watches movies that express the triumph of the human spirit. They're watching the bloody Sundance channel, cuddling with their kid and polluting her mind with this."

I giggled, squirming in his arms, "Sweetheart, you're supposed to be putting me in the mood, not making me laugh."

He withdrew to look at me, "So you understand my pain. My brother's normal. He doesn't watch horror movies and laugh uncontrollably at the blood splatter in Tarentino films."

"I don't know how that's possible," I replied, linking my arms around his neck. "But, perhaps his normalcy isn't all bad. We do need someone to not eat the humans so the entire family doesn't look like animals."

He smirked and placed a firm, easily excitable kiss on my lips. I practically purred. "Maybe, in lieu of normalcy, we should be a little wild tonight."

I laughed, "Did your father leave?"

He shrugged, "It's my house. I can have fun if I want to."

His eyes glinted like gemstones, bringing warmth to my cheeks. He cupped my shoulders and caressed down my back, skimming my sides ever so gently as he went. I released my breath, leaned in and kissed him adoringly. A part of me hoped that vampiric telepathy kicked in at moments like this; I only had one thing on my mind and I could think it with all my heart, nuzzling close to him and allowing him the chance to do whatever he so pleased. _You're perfect._


	62. Chapter Sixty-Two

_Chapter Sixty-Two_

It was very early morning when Aleksi decided we were going to watch cartoons. The days and nights weren't in balance, according to my mother, so it was no surprise how easily I woke up at his prompting and he, Kiera and I took up vigil in front of the television. I had no idea why boys thought muscular men in tights was such a good thing when they called Johnny Weir a sissy for the same reason. I liked Johnny's clothes better. Even I could tell him that green and purple didn't go together.

Of all the people in the house up early, it wasn't Rain today. Grandpa shuffled downstairs at eight thirty, a full half hour after we'd gotten up. He looked incredibly grumpy for having just woken up, but he came in to sit with us anyway. The couch looked like it was going to give under him the way he sunk into it. We all stared at him until he opened his eyes. "What kind of news is this?"

"It's the Avengers," Aleksi said. "They're superheroes. It's not news."

Grandpa stared at us for a long time before sighing and rubbing his head the way Daddy did when he got a stressful client. He looked down at Kiera and finally said, "You. Are you human?" She shrugged. He sat up, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and addressing her face to face. "Don't shrug at me, give me an answer. Are you human?"

"I'm Kiera." I had to hold back from laughing. So did Grandpa. He laid back and continued rubbing his forehead. I heard him mutter, "You are _certainly_ Sean's."

Aleksi glanced at me like he was afraid to say something. I crawled over to him and tugged on the leg of his pants. Immediately, he sat up and pulled me up onto the couch with him. I cuddled into his side; he was bigger than Daddy in pretty much every way. He seemed taller, and he might've looked like he had more muscle, but I was cuddling him and I felt how squishy his belly was. That was probably what Uncle Paul meant when he told girls he worked with to suck it in. "Why are you so mean to Daddy and Uncle Sean?"

He had been playing with my hair. He didn't act like he knew what to do around me, so when the playing stopped I stopped breathing. He looked down at me and patted the top of my head. "It doesn't involve you, Zofie."

"But I know you were mean to Uncle Sean because of Kiera. So are you mad at Daddy because of me? Is it because of the thing that they keep talking about but not to me?" His eyes widened. Of course he didn't think I was smart, but my parents did. They told me things usually, so I knew it was bad when they didn't. It must've been really bad, but then they had a party. So I guess the bad wasn't bad anymore.

Grandpa sighed. "I am not angry with your uncle for his daughter, Zo. I am angry with him because he doesn't respect my tradition and the tradition of our family."

"What is the tradition of our family?"

Kiera and Aleksi were being very quiet, looking at the TV but listening for a story. Grandpa turned off the TV because he knew. Grown ups always knew. Aleksi climbed up on the couch too and brought Kiera with him. He looked at them like they were intruders, but they stayed and I thought it was very brave. Finally, Grandpa addressed me with a little sigh. "Our family are warriors, Zofie. Kings. When all the land was divided, and we weren't nations, it was even said that one of King Arthur's parents came from our land."

I rolled my eyes. This was going to be one of those long winded stories like Daddy's when he got on about politics or Mommy's when she discussed _those idiots who have never read a book a day in their lives and yet the public adores them because everyone in the world has gotten so effing stupid._ He noticed and he patted my head. "I'll give you the short version. Everyone in our family has been a king, right down to me. They took our kingdom from under me, yes, but that doesn't mean that I don't expect regal behavior out of your parents." It was the first time he talked to Kiera too.

"But we're not Count Dracula," I said.

"Firstly, Dracula is not a count. He is a king. As angry as I have been about not ruling my own land, I do agree that the merging of our vampiric nations in the fourteen hundreds was governed by a good man, and that same good man rules today. I am very proud to call him a friend of our family. Secondly, no. You are not a princess anymore, but you are still better than many men. Your parents have worked to show you that. Yes, I will admit that it's a changing world and I may not know what is best for you, but I do know that where I come from, every little girl must read, write, sew and learn her fabrics."

I scrunched up my nose. Grandpa smiled and rolled up the sleeves of his pajamas. "Leather, when toughened into hide, can resist some sword attacks but may not protect you if it is head on. God help you against a bullet. There are plated things now, but you still have to know what works for you best. The hard leather cuffs will probably still stop a bullet at your arteries, being solid as they are. And you do need to know how to stitch yourself in battle, don't you?"

Aleksi grinned. I watched Kiera try to crawl closer to him. Very gently, she tugged his sleeve to draw his attention to her. She was only little, and like me she was born the way she was. I liked her more than Aleksi. Her eyes were brighter and a prettier color. Her skin was softer, and she didn't like dirt as much. I loved her hair. It reminded me of my hair. I wanted to give her all the kinds of things I wanted to do to my own to make sure it looked right first. Mommy had always taught me to see it in the mirror before it was done permanently. Her parents loved her too. They loved each other too. I didn't know why, but that made her special. Any boy could be Aleksi. Not every girl could be Kiera. It took a special kind of person to be loved while their parents still loved each other. I really hoped Grandpa saw that. He didn't look down at her at first, only when she pulled again that he finally did. At first, he looked irritated. Then, he sighed and lifted his arm for her to crawl under. She snuggled into his side, a little ball of love, making Grandpa melt the way she made everyone else. "How were you conceived?" he muttered, rubbing her little back.

She shrugged, "Seahorses."

Aleksi tilted his head. My eyes widened. "Ew. Where'd Uncle Sean have to...boys don't...do they?" My gaze immediately turned on Aleksi. Grandpa's brows were quirked toward me. I looked at him, trying to establish how a boy could get a person in their stomach. I even lifted his shirt to see if there was some kind of special kangaroo egg pouch, but nothing. "Do you hatch people?"

"Zofie, what on earth are you talking about?" Grandpa asked.

"How do two boys make a baby? I know how Mommy and Daddy do it, but...can girls?!"

There was laughter from behind us. I went red as Uncle Sean came around the corner, pausing near us. "Kinda like how Mommy and Daddy do it, but yes, we need an egg."

"Aren't you kinda big to hatch an egg? How many people come from eggs?"

"All of them. Just not the kind you're thinking of."

I was confused. Grandpa was glaring at Sean, this time I didn't think it was because of Kiera. "Where in the hell do you get off telling her these things, boy?"

"Bram and Gory never lied to her about sex. Mommy and Daddy had sex and made Zofie, isn't that right?"

I nodded.

Uncle Sean scooped up Kiera and nudged Aleksi off the couch. "Coming, Zo? We're havin' eggs."

Grandpa stopped him from leaving, "What are you talking about? They told her? At this age?"

"Dad, she's young enough to hear these things. The human kids are the ones with the problems. Besides, as much as they've told me, she asked. They don't bullshit her like you did us."

Grandpa looked down at me in surprise. I sighed; why did grown ups always see that like a big deal? There were times they left the door open enough that I heard, and it didn't sound as fun as they thought it was. It always sounded like they were moving furnature, and that was a lot of work. I climbed off the couch and followed Uncle Sean into the kitchen. "So who hatched the baby?"

"Nathan's sister did. Bram and Gory did tell you that girls are the only ones who make eggs, right?"

I hoped he wasn't talking about cooking, because this was going to get very awkward. I climbed up in my chair and shrugged. He shrugged too and put down Kiera. "Well, girls make the eggs, and boys have things that when put together with an egg, make a baby."

"I know that," I said with a sigh. "Why do you make it sound so weird? It sounds like a lot of work."

"Well, your parents wanted you very much. So they put in a lot of work to have you."

He put on the coffee and went to the refrigerator. I watched, swinging my feet. Aleksi probably didn't hear or didn't know, and he was getting all pink. Grown up subjects made him very pink. Kiera was too young to understand.

"So, are they trying to make a baby now?"

Uncle Sean laughed. "They probably tried to make a baby last night."

"Am I gonna get a younger sibling?"

"That's what they're hopin' for."

I hoped I'd get a Kiera and not an Aleksi. Aleksi was enough work as it is, I couldn't deal with two of him. Kiera, I might be able to. Uncle Sean looked back at me, almost asking with his eyes if I had any more questions. Grandpa walked in and stood at the door. He'd probably been listening the whole time.

"Why do grown ups think making babies is such a big deal?" I asked.

"Because," Uncle Sean sighed. "It's different when you're a grown up. You start getting these feelings when you're with people, not always the right people, mind you, but certain people give you a feeling like you think you might want to do the baby-making thing with them. And babies can happen as a result of that, so that's why it's a very big deal, especially if you just wanted to do the part before the baby and not have said baby."

"Like Uncle Vinnie and Auntie Tash."

Aleksi went very pink then. I think he was embarrassed. Nobody said anything for a very long time before Uncle Sean sighed. "I don't think so. Sometimes people give their babies to other people. If they hadn't wanted Aleksi, they probably would've given him away."

Aleksi looked up again. I just nodded, because babies were incredibly confusing. It kind of made me wonder about Auntie Laura's baby. Was she going to give it away? They got married, so she probably didn't want just the part before the baby. I didn't want her to. I didn't want to think of what might've happened if Auntie Tash had given up Aleksi, or Uncle Sean with Kiera...or my parents, with me. I suddenly felt very sad that people gave up their babies. I didn't know it was possible for people not to love each other and not love their babies either. I heard things all the time, but it didn't really sink in until then. Why did they do it? Why did mine keep me? What made me different than them, or my parents different from other parents? I had thought for the longest time that everybody had parents like mine. I looked down at my lap and realized that I was wrong.

They came in before I could think much longer, though. Mommy gave Grandpa a hug and kept Daddy from being mad at him, and then I started wondering. If Grandpa was so mean, why didn't he tell Grandma to give them away? How could you be mean to something you wanted?

I ended up feeding Sammy some of my eggs. I was too confused to be hungry.


	63. Chapter Sixty-Three

_Chapter Sixty-Three_

Late summer was supposed to mean stifling heat and threats of severe weather, but morning came with a severe cold. It felt as if it had dropped twenty five degrees or more, and it probably had. I curled my body into Bram's, feeling him shift against my back. The light poking in from beneath the curtains was muted further. It was one thing to be cold and sunny, but to be cold and cloudy was one released for winter entirely. I scowled, burying my face into the pillow and feeling him pull me closer. "Jesus."

"Cold?" I muttered. He placed his face against the back of my neck. It should've been nice to share the warmth, but I just wanted a way to wrap him entirely around me and vice versa. He was probably as freezing as I was. I cracked open an eye despite the optical irritation it stirred and looked around the blur that was our bedroom for my robe. He felt me shift to look and muttered into the back of my neck, "Time is it?"

"Ten," I replied. Finally registering that it was in the bathroom, I glanced over my shoulder. His arms were still limp around me, clutching like a baby to a bear. His lips dragged down my spine and he pressed his face into my back, holding me a bit more tightly. I laughed breathlessly, gently nudging his arms into relaxing as I shifted to hold him properly. Gratefully, he shifted his head onto my chest, burying in with a level of exhaustion I hadn't seen in some time. I traced my fingers slowly through his hair, attempting to smooth down the ruffled mess.

"I'm freezing," he muttered against my chest.

"Should I get you a blanket?" I murmured. The cold and his clinging had awoken me, neither greater than the other. He tried to shake his head, but it barely quirked. I continued stroking his hair while he roused himself, barely sentient enough to speak coherently. "Give me a second."

A second was more like half an hour. He woke up in stages. He shifted a little, his breathing becoming much lighter until he opened his eyes, and for a while he laid with his ear against my heart, tracing his fingers slowly against my hip. I melted beneath his touch. It was such a glorious, slow touch, it brought me the joy of a dog being caressed by its master. The more alert he became, the slower the touching grew. His fingers dipped up along my side and back down to my hip. He always traced the bare skin, whether we were clothed or not. His gorgeous ruby eyes flickered upward to meet mine before he dipped down to my belly and began kissing the scars where lycan claws had marred my skin. Warmth, generated by sentiment, filled my center and spread outward like the afterthought of rum. He kissed those scars after making love to me. It wasn't an unusual occurrence, but it meant the world all the same.

"Did you have a bad dream?" I murmured, tracing his elongated bangs from his face.

"I didn't dream at all," he murmured. His thumb traced the visibly altered skin before he pressed his lips there again. I resisted the urge to arch under all of his kissing and caressing.

"Then why are you being so intimate this morning?" I tried to put the proper amount of teasing in my tone, but it just didn't take. He nuzzled my stomach, drawing me just a bit closer, "Because I love you and I want to be." He pressed his lips tenderly across my imperfect skin. He caressed the curves that at times I wanted to contain. He loved me, all of me, and I knew that if he didn't he wouldn't have any of me. I stroked his hair back, sending it splaying wildly up in the air. He released a sound almost like a purr, returning his caresses with my own. I pressed myself close to him, kissing the top of his head softly as his lips drifted upward, eventually settling in against my neck like usual.

"You're such a gentleman," I murmured. "Even when you're being brutal, there's so much honor in the way you touch. You make everything as it should be."

"Close your eyes," he murmured. A familiar smile crossed my lips. Even though I knew this teasing little trick, I obeyed. Ever so softly, his lips pressed to the tip of my nose. They pressed to the apple of one cheek, his breath grazing my face, and pressed to the other. Then, ceremoniously, his lips brushed delicately against both of my closed eyes, one at a time. They brushed my forehead before settling at my own.

"Never teach Valentine these tricks," I whispered, linking my fingers through his hair. "He already toys with these poor girls' hearts so, the last thing they ever need to think is that he loves them as much as you love me."

He pressed his hands gently to my back, pressing me close. I curled into him, my lips parting in instinctive response to the action. His were so soft and warm as they brushed mine, if my heart beat like a human's it surely would've missed a beat. "Never," he murmured. He kissed me slowly, his lips pressing to mine in the most gentlemanly fashion possible and gradually progressing, deep, smoldering passion evident in every little movement. Every tiny nip and flick of his tongue against my own. God, I was weak to him. All he wanted to do was hold me, worship me like he hadn't done enough already, and I was already so much his. When he kissed me like that, I had no will left of my own. The only man to ever beat me at my own games, here in this bed with me. His arms around me, his lips on mine, all of him belonging to me.

He withdrew slowly, brushing our lips intimately once more. He traced his thumb over my cheek, catching a tear I didn't know had fallen. Our foreheads pressed together, my eyes still closed against his. I could feel the flutter of his eyelashes, his nose brushing mine in a tender little butterfly kiss. Did his heart choke him the way mine was choking me? Preventing me from speaking, from voicing all my love. There just weren't words enough.

"Have you put thought into it?" he murmured, breaking the trance our closeness had put me into. He immediately backpedaled and continued, knowing that it was too early and we had been too close for my mind to function properly just yet. "Zofie's schooling. It'll start in five weeks or so if she goes down to the elementary school with Aleksi."

I shook my head. "I want to ask her. It's her education."

He nodded, hardly moving from me at all. I linked my fingers through his as they rested against my hip. He smiled lightly, "Shall we go annoy my brother?"

"We shall," I replied. He tugged me gently out of bed as he rose, planted a warm kiss on my lips and claimed first dibs on the bathroom. He smirked, shutting the door slowly as I stood in the main room with my hands on my hips. After so long, the guilt-trip accompanying my questioning stare had faded out. Shaking my head, I crossed the room and produced clothes from the closet quickly. Morning routines had grown quick after Zo had been born; when there was a fussy child involved, everything had to be done in ten minutes or less. Now that she was older, it had extended to twenty.

Zo seemed the slightest bit perplexed as we entered the kitchen. I scooped her up in her chair and sat her on my lap, "Why the sad face, sugar plum?"

She looked between her father and me, her expression borderline exasperated until she lowered her eyes and began playing with my rings. I rose a brow. "Zo, talk to me."

"Did you want me?" The sudden question made my eyes widen. My eyes flickered to Bram. His brows knit in confusion, gaze flickering to Sean. Mine went to his father, "What is she talking about?"

"She knows too much about childbearing for someone her age," he said.

"Women were told nearly at birth when you were growing up, don't play that card with me. What is she talking about? I didn't ask for a distraction, I asked for an answer."

"We were discussing children, of course. Someone just had to bring up that she knew what happened to make them, and I suppose the thought of adoption comes off as one no one intended to teach her."

The arrogant way he spoke to me almost made me slap him. If he wasn't my husband's father, I would've. "No, I didn't intend to teach her about adoption. It is a fact of life, but not an option in my family."

"And when she grew up? Put that knowledge to the test and you end up a grandmother? Are you going to let her run off in fear to a back alley physician to get her problem taken care of?"

I pressed her to my chest. Everything was scalding in the center of my being. "It's not an option."

"When your child is afraid of you, it most certainly is."

"Obviously I'm not taking my parenting cues from you. I won't have to worry about that."

There was silence as my words sunk in. They were biting, angry, laced with venom. I hoped he processed all the malice behind them too. Zofie in hand, I got up and walked outside before I could grow even more tempted to take my confrontation physical. As angry as I was with him, I didn't want him to see me as any less of a lady. Before I stepped outside, I paused and glanced back at the silent table, addressing my father in law in a calm, composed tone. "I bite my thumb at you, sir. I would say only a coward would dare intimidate children with stories like that, but that would be an insult to cowards. You're no different of a mewling quim than the people you claim to be above." _Chew on that, my lord._

Sean managed to wait until I shut the door to burst into laughter. I was rather grateful for that, since not even the sound seemed to change the disturbance in Zofie's eyes much. No matter how cold it was, it didn't seem to phase her. I sunk into one of the bistro chairs and caressed her hair slowly. "Why would you ever think for a fraction of a second that I didn't want you?"

"Uncle Sean said that some people don't always want to have babies, they just want to do the thing that makes them. And you always say how you never got to go to prom and you had to quit fearleading and all of that other stuff because you were pregnant with me." Her little gemstone eyes turned up to me. Her lower lip quivered and she looked at the stone. "I hurt that man and I got you in trouble. Maybe I am a mistake."

"Zofie Devein!" I grasped her chin and turned her face toward me. "Don't you dare call yourself a mistake. That's right, I didn't go to prom, but that was because I didn't want to. I gave up fearleading and I was going to do it anyway. You were my excuse to do all these things, but you don't think for a second that if I had wanted to do something I wouldn't have done it? I went to graduation. I went to school until I had you. I wanted you more than anything in the world since the moment you happened. Your father and I knew you were going to come about, we were ready for that. Granted, childbirth is the most hellish experience on earth, you were pretty worth going through with it for."

She still looked down at her hands folded in her lap. I nudged her chin. "Zo. I mean this. I love you more than anything. Never, not even while I was throwing up everything I had eaten the night before, craving food and attention and aching everywhere did I regret having you. Not when you woke me up at two thirty and kept me up until five on a school night. I have never, ever not wanted you and I never will."

"Daddy?" she murmured.

"Your father hasn't done half as much as I have, he doesn't get an opinion. Even without one, he'd probably trade me off before he'd ever think of letting anyone else have you."

"Ah, but that's a lie," Bram said as he stepped out, a little teacup in hand for her. "I need both of my girls, or else I'd never be complete."

I kissed his cheek as he passed her his glass, "In that case, I hope the number totals up to three."

He shot me a look. I smiled; of course he still wanted a boy. Zofie looked between us and looked down at my belly, "So, is it in there yet?"

Bram shrugged, "You don't know when it happens, Zo, you know a little while after. So until we know, we keep trying."

"Good," she said. She picked up her teacup and held it in her hands, "I think I want a little sister. Aleksi gets on my nerves."


	64. Chapter Sixty-Four

_Chapter Sixty-Four_

"I mean in retrospect, this probably paid off better than the book tour would've anyway," Draculaura nattered in my ear. This had been the longest time I had taken off since making the active decision to choose this path of living for actual monetary means. "People empathize with you," she continued. "If I hadn't been able to convince the council to stand down, the public would've. I mean come on, young mom trying to chase her dreams? Dealing with the effects of her past and the vast infinity of her future while struggling with the definition of true martyrdom-?"

"Laura, not even on my kindest day am I a martyr." With the phone balanced on my shoulder, I scrolled over the outpouring of adoration in my favor. This was the life that opposing Cleo de Nile brought me. With funding, she had tried to get her fashion empire off the ground. She dragged Clawdeen up with her, and they hadn't reached the status I had yet. No, it seemed like her quest to outdo me in high school had been karmatic. I had been the first to marry, the first to have children, the first to nudge myself into the public eye. And those who knew me, loved me. Those who judged me did as they pleased; they would be met forevermore with indifference.

"You're joking. Gory, you're a mother. Motherhood and martyrdom go hand in hand. Don't pretend for a second that if it didn't take dying for Zo that you wouldn't."

"I would. The ideal would be making someone I didn't like die for both of us, though."

She laughed in my ear. I could hear her husband placing his tender kisses to her skin, rubbing her belly through her silk shirt. I was glad she couldn't see the smile the action brought to my face, I did have somewhat of a reputation to maintain. Against my better judgement, I saved my place and opened a new document to begin something new. That must've been the eternal quest for someone like me: new things, new experiences, new life. Being alive for so long left little ways to transition between the later chapters of my life. Ignoring her happiness for a moment, I looked out into the backyard through the open veranda doors and watched my daughter, my niece and my friends' son dash around the yard with Sean and a very happy, umbrella-mounted Sammy, attempting to chase tennis balls as they were thrown in some wild game of catch. Their happy shrieks and bubbly laughter spilled into my dimly lit room of quiet. The faint sounds of Natasha and Vinnie's packing and Rain's television touched my ears to go unnoticed even further. I closed my eyes and let the words spill out. The people who said adulthood was not what the middle ground between leaving childhood and achieving it was like had no idea. There had never been a dose of mortgage payment, khaki pants or nine-to-five in my life.

_Normal (adj): conforming to the standard or the common type; usual; not abnormal; regular; natural._

M&Ms and microwavable food coupled with energy drinks and coffee for breakfast, that was my normal. While other people sent their children off to school, because that was what children were supposed to do, I was keeping mine with me to learn at home, because if god forbid her father decided he wanted a job away from home, something he could find even more fulfilling than organizing art galleries on a virtual setting, I needed someone to keep me company. Rainy wouldn't be an option, she'd be off at school. Aleksi would go to school and Kiera was too young. My normal came in the form of a strange, beautiful family coexisting with my own- my human brother-in-law-to-be, my damphir niece, my gilded mother-in-law, my asinine father-in-law, my grandfather the former gladiator, my flawless daughter. Why was it always those who broke the laws of normalcy that lived the happiest lives? Was it because we lacked the supposedly human capability to care what other people thought of us? Or was it our strength? Rebellion in any form took quite a bit of strength. To fight back for a better world took more strength than anyone could've imagined.

I wrote everything down. Draculaura heard me typing. She didn't make a sound.

What was the quote from Caesar? Let me be your mirror, for you cannot see yourself as I do? Normal was like beauty, it was in the eye of the beholder. Surely there were people still who thought everything to do with monsterkind revolved around hiding under a child's bed and murdering innocents. My family, while it might've been the Addams Family revision of the era, it was no less of a family than the family of four who prayed over their supper and had average children, average jobs and an average life. In achieving everything, I had really achieved nothing, I had only made myself heard. Three hundred and sixty nine years of being silenced. Eleven years of having a handful of people hear my voice. Now I was the voice of the people I loved, because they had lent me theirs. They had lent me the strength to scream until I was heard, and now that everyone was listening, I could carry them too.

"Gory," Draculaura murmured in my ear, "Are you having a burst?"

I nodded, but at the same time I wanted to shake my head. Yes, it was a burst, but not of muse. It was a burst of revelation. I sought the reason to blame myself for things beyond my control. My parents had never been a product of my misdeeds. My friends' decisions were not a product of my wrongdoings. No, as much as I could try to put off the knowledge that I loved my parents even in their tragic and traitorous demise, I had never stopped loving them. How many times had I declared good to be in evil and evil in good? It was not a celestial balance, because there was no such thing as balance. Rocks could have innards. Human beings could be monsters. The Pacific Ocean had radioactive iodine in it and would stay there for a good sixteen million years. There had never been a balance, because that was not life. Life was not balanced. It was never meant to be understood, and maybe that was the revelation everyone needed to have. No matter how many books one being read, no matter how long they lived, they would die. Immortality was a fleeting concept, it was a lie, I was not an immortal, Shakespeare was not an immortal, but we were historic. Hemingway had once called it the rarest occasion for an intellectual to know happiness. Maybe instead of happiness, the way of life should lead to peace and achievement. Satisfaction, not joy, because joy was fleeting. Everything was fleeting. It was better to let satisfaction develop into joy than to grasp joy for a moment and fall into despair.

"Gory!" my best friend called, her laughter chiming. "Are you okay? Should I call Bram?"

"I'm happy," I murmured. I saved my thoughts and I powered down the little machine on my lap. I had time to keep working. That had begun the downfall of man, putting the value of money on time. No, I wasn't immortal, but I was granted lifetimes beyond the average being. I had time to work later when there weren't walks to be taken and roses to be smelled. I needed to call Val. I needed to let him know I loved him. I wanted to go chase after a bear and caress its hide, and when it turned in question, it would know. There would always be a war with nature, because that was in man's nature. It didn't have to be in mine. I could only teach Zofie so many valuable things, but if I kept track of them, I could put them to better use. "I'm going to go for now, my dearest. You enjoy that husband and that child of yours."

"If something's wrong, you call me, okay? I don't want you pulling a Sherlock, Sherlock."

"I'll be seeing you, woman," I teased. She worried when I got this way and for good reason. Most people came to heartbreaking revelations while working. The ones that felt the hardest to bear were the ones that seemed to affirm my existence the most. I tucked my phone in my arm and dashed up the stairs. I left my laptop on my desk, my phone beside it and abandoned my sweater in favor of the unseasonable cold. Why not enjoy what I had, strange as it was? Sans makeup or dressy clothing, I tugged on slipper-shoes and padded down the stairs to find my better half.

He had paused for the time being in his work in favor of food, and when he saw me enter the kitchen his eyes warmed. I caught his jaw and kissed his lips fiercely. There need not be an ounce of sexuality in our romance; it was not that which made me love him. His eyes gleamed as I withdrew, "You're in a good mood."

"I want to do something today," I breathed in delight. "I want to celebrate being alive."

He paused, glancing down to my stomach. I shrugged and slipped my arms around his neck. "Pause with me in the understanding I've come to."

"And what might that be?" His arms wrapped around my waist in return, gently tugging me ever so much closer. I stood on my toes to press my nose to his, beaming with the delight of my intellectual and emotional acquisition. "Happiness is not a simple thing, and life is not about balance." God, that was the most difficult thing to abridge of any thought I'd ever had. He nodded in agreement, tracing his fingers down my sides.  
"How would you like to celebrate that?"

I glanced at his computer. He broke away from me to save what he'd been doing and I jogged to the veranda door, wrenched it open and called out, "Zofie! Let's go get ice cream!"

Immediately, all three children and barking Sammy seemed to cheer. They dashed for the other open door. Sean regarded me with a raised brow and heaving chest for a moment, following suit toward me. He leaned on the door with a tenderly inquisitive expression, quirking his head like a puppy dog.

"It's a good day," I replied to his silent questioning. "Everything is falling into place. Trust me. Let's celebrate."

He grinned at me in slipping past to corral the little ones, "I can't argue with ice cream."

...

"And that's our show. Tune in tomorrow for our special guest, the Ghostly Gossip herself, Spectra Vondergiest! And remember, love doesn't have to be scary!" Cupid's voice was like a wind chime as she signed off her radio show. Her boyfriend's headphones were already lowered, listening to the melody of her voice without worrying about the radio interference. As their On Air sign clicked into darkness, she turned to him and flipped down her headphones, "How was that?"

"Beautiful, darlin'. Just like you."

She laughed and rolled her eyes, "Val, come on. Be honest."

"I am bein' honest. You're beautiful. You're the best there is at what you do."

She hung the headphones on their mount. "It's still nice to have a conflict of opinion every so often."

It was Valentine's turn to roll his eyes as he hung up his headphones. "Alright, conflict of opinion time. Where do you wanna go for dinner?"

She shrugged, "Surprise me."

"Ah, Ari! You wanted a conflict of opinion! Argue something with me!" His playfully firm tone was met with her giggles as he tugged her close. Her patterned-gloved hands flashed to her neck, "Not me!"

"Ah, but I'd like a little dessert before dinner," he purred into her ear, nipping it playfully. She slipped from his grip, grabbing her sweater and purse off her chair and dashing off down the hall. Valentine grasped his jacket and snapped it on as he pursued her out the main door into the cool summer evening. She giggled, running like a young woman in a horror film across the parking lot, throwing the occasional glance at her boyfriend over her shoulder. Valentine paused outside the door and sauntered after her slowly, smoothing his collar and the lapel of his jacket. As she threw a glance over her shoulder again, he flashed near her and tugged her against the side of his car by her waist. She yelped in shock, her eyes widening in muted terror. He flashed his fangs in a wicked grin, fueling the relief-laced exasperation that backed her gentle smack to his shoulder. "You're going to give me a heart attack!"

He chuckled, lowering his lips to her neck to give her an apologetic kiss. Her eyes flickered down and a piercing scream left her lips. Immediately, Valentine withdrew to follow her gaze as she stumbled back, her hands clamped over her mouth. His jaw dropped.

White skin. Protruding fangs. Definitely a vampire. A stake had been slammed through him so violently that it had pierced the back tire. The man held a pen in his hand dipped in his own blood, red words written over the notepad on his chest in very delicate, elegant script.

_I know what you did._


	65. Chapter Sixty-Five

_Chapter Sixty-Five_

Absolute bliss coursed through my veins. Bram's Belfry Prep sweater hung loosely around my upper body, blocking the chill of the air conditioning still raging in the temporary summer cold spell. The red vinyl beneath my legs felt extraordinarily familiar, reminiscent of the first time I had met my adopted brother in the booth of the ice cream parlor in Chicago with my knowing, faux-grieving father and my omnisciently lying mother. A part of me missed the simplicity of the time. New to my engagement, new to my travels with my friends, new to the prospect of having a family outside the one I was born with. If only I had known that my travels to Salem would end the way they did. Maybe I would've taken that moment with my father to remind him that he was still more important than his wife. Now, could I even call her my mother after the things she'd done? The blood of the covenant, they said. They had no idea. I had been so foolish then.

"Alright you guys, let's get a move on," Bram said in returning. The trio of children, surrounded by empty sundae glasses, were still wiping the chocolate and sauce from their fingers and faces. Habitually, I watched them with a muted smile. My eyes flicked up to my husband's face, watching with the utmost adoration as he lifted the most precious treasure of our lives into his arms and kissed her tiny face. He pressed her close and caressed the sticky syrup from the corners of her mouth with a napkin. Her most dear playmate scooted closer to me for a drink of the shake I was nursing, but I ruffled his hair and rose instead.

Bram's eyes flickered to me with the same adoration as mine mirrored to him as I scooped his brother's child into my arms and cradled her near me. She stuck her sandaled foot in the pocket of my sweater, much to my amusement. Aleksi made another pass at my shake. Rolling my eyes, I picked up my shake and nudged my side with it. It was apparently catnip enough for the little vampire.

The kids were too hyper for their own good and making the backseat of the hearse more of a party than it should've been. My eyes flicked to Bram as the frosty red liquid sloshed up my straw and filled my mouth with sweetness. Type O was closest to flower nectar for a reason. He smiled intuitively, his eyes not once leaving the road. We turned the corner and immediately, the flash of multicolored lights sent my nerves to high alert. Bram's eyes finally left the road to flick to me as he started down the path we knew very well. Those police cars were in the parking lot of the radio station. My brother's car was still there.

The anxiety was immediate. I tugged my seatbelt free and left my drink in the cup holder, bolting out of my door the moment he had pulled up to the curb. "Val?!"

Blessedly, the two figures at the edge of the entire police throng looked up. My brother bolted from his girlfriend's side to mine before any men in uniform could stop him. The relief only seemed to settle in when my arms were linked securely around his neck and his chest pressed to mine. He held me with equal tightness, yet a measure of gentility, to which I was grateful. My fingers linked in his hair. I pressed a blood-stained kiss to his cheek that he didn't wipe away. Clinging on for only a moment, I withdrew to look him over for signs of blood that hadn't come from my lips. "Are you alright?"

He nodded. "There was a murder right next to my car."

Call it cruel, but the breath I released took the last of my fear with it. I released him with a quiet laugh. The emotion that had threatened to bubble over went contained again; he was alright and so was Chariclo, that was what mattered. One of the darkly uniformed men wandered over, young and clearly lycanthrope. I recognized him vaguely from high school. He offered me a little smile, "Hi Gory."

I nodded in hello, sparing a small smile for his efforts. He glanced to Val, "You don't have any idea as to what the note was talking about?"

His arm still around me, my brother rubbed my shoulder slowly. My eyes lifted to his face in questioning, but he remained gazing straight ahead at the young wolf before him. Shaking his head, he replied, "I've done a lot of things. Could be anything."

The boy nodded, "Let me know if you get any ideas, okay?"

Cupid wandered over, wrapped in a fringed white shawl. I thought it was some kind of shock blanket until she folded herself into my brother's side. No, I knew that piece of clothing well. It wasn't hers. I would've liked to have been jealous, or a little irritated, even. None rose. My eyes flickered to him, questioning things besides the shawl. Whoever he gave our mother's things to weren't my concern, it was a dead man with connection to something he'd done that was on my mind. He waited until the wolf was out of earshot to lower his tone and murmur to me, "The body was left against my car with a message written in his blood."

"And they don't know who did this?"

"Not in the slightest."

My stomach tightened. I glanced desperately back to the car. Val nudged me toward them, "We're waiting for the coroner, then we're going home. Holt and Spectra can handle the show tomorrow."

Poor Cupid. She was such a fragile little creature. Killing probably never crossed her mind, even as commonplace as it was in our world. Valentine massaged her shoulder and led her off toward the benches elsewhere. Call it paranoia, but I hurried back to the car and slipped inside. The children had gone blessedly quiet. My husband waited to question me until I had buckled in and we had pulled away from the curb, "There's been another murder."

The reminder of the others made my stomach clench. I nodded slowly. "What if they've been watching us all along? Struggling through one obstacle after another, and they're just waiting for us to slip."

"Then they're going to be waiting a very long time." The confidence in his words matched the bubbling fury in his eyes as he pushed the gas down a bit more. I stole a glance over my shoulder to the trio of children. Zo sat in the middle, her eyes full of understanding that at her age, shouldn't have been there. Immediately, they filled with sorrow and she tried to stretch to reach me. I took her hand. "You're gonna cry," she observed. There was an undertone of terror in her gaze; she was probably worrying about Val. I nodded. The sudden blaze of headlights at our side made my heart stop temporarily, but Bram floored the gas and I found myself watching through the tinted back windows as the hearse was nearly clipped by a truck running a red light.

"That was not an accident," I whispered.

He put up with my conspiracy theories before, but now I could see that he was coming to an understanding about them.

"Bram, that wasn't an accident." He hardly flashed me a look. I glanced at the speedometer, watching the needle slowly rise as he gunned the gas and tore up the forest path. It didn't seem to occur to either child but my own what had just transpired, but Zofie linked her fingers tightly through my own. "Why are people trying to kill us, Mommy?"

Immediately, that awoke Kiera and Aleksi. The lights of the house came into view and I snapped out of my belt and went to unfastening them. Bram wrenched open the back doors and scooped the little girls into his arms, leaving me to Aleksi. He grabbed my shake like a typical little boy, forgetting danger momentarily in favor of sweets. I smiled to him with a bit of force and shut the door to follow my husband. He blazed inside, beeping the car's lock and leaving me to lock up as he tore into the den. I could hear the muted sounds of CNN before the TV was silenced and his voice carried through the main part of the house.

"Someone nearly hit the hearse and left a body on my brother-in-law's car." If Kiera hadn't toddled in, I think Sean would've knocked over his chair. I corralled Zo close to me, holding her playmate in my arms while he tended to his passed-on sweets. My father-in-law glanced to me with equal or darker fury in his eyes. "With the children on board."

My husband nodded. The elder Lord rose and immediately blazed past me. Bram followed, and Sean behind him. It took me a moment to locate Kiera in the mess of my mind, nestled in her other father's arms. He clung to her with the proper terror of any mother. Through the lump in my throat, I managed to whisper a question of Vinnie and Natasha's whereabouts, but a part of me was terrified for the answer. Blessedly, his lack of answer only let the commotion grow, summoning them. Vinnie was surprisingly the first to tear in and grab Aleksi from my arms. The little boy only seemed irritated to have his sweets sloshed about in their cup as he was smothered in affection. I sunk onto the sofa with Zo, left off to the sidelines like a war wife of days past.

"Why would someone want to hurt us?" Zofie whimpered, tucking her face into my chest.

Everything seemed to freeze for a moment. _As soon as the next opening comes, I'm representing the Fangtell-Devein clans on the council._  
They did not want my clan in the council. They had never wanted my clan in the council. We were businessmen, yes, but just that; we were businessmen and farmers. My parents had dishonored us. Bram's father was one of them, a true warlord, fit to be a councilman. Zofie was not the trigger, I was. My triumph, the fact that I had proven myself a worthy contender for the council, that was what had become the target painted on my back.

"Bram?" I called out.

The doorbell rang. I pushed Zo toward Nathan and bolted to my feet before someone could answer it, "Bram!"

Sean emerged, his eyes dark with frustration. I blocked him from the door for a moment, resting my hands on his biceps, "Sean, he's right."

"Gory, I don't want to do this right now-"

"Dracula wouldn't know about it, because the council is behind this entire thing! They don't want my family to take power!"

He paused, just for a moment before grabbing my arm, swinging me behind him and wrenching open the door to knock the weapon from the hands of the being on the other side. Honestly, he could've just let things go as they may, the doors were solid and he'd seen to that...

Something very familiar was amiss about those woods. There was not a deathly silent thing about them, because their inhabitants were every bit as animal as the animals. Bram's employer glanced over his shoulder at his fallen revolver and quirked a brow toward Sean, "The hard way, then."

I met a pair of amber eyes and took a deep breath. They were poised, they were ready, and we were not. We were outnumbered and outgunned...and we had the Impala. Vinnie emerged from the den to see me standing at the door, absolute silence engulfing both Sean and I. Before he could speak, I couldn't help myself but to smile. They were waiting. I didn't have time to speak, we had to simply move. I couldn't even look at him to give him aid. That one word put all my breath to use, all the volume in my tone and all the power in my voice, and I hoped to god it carried through the house enough.

"_Werewolves!"_


	66. Chapter Sixty-Six

_Chapter Sixty-Six_

Everything be damned. It took three and a half seconds for Sean to bolt in after our offspring and less than half a second for me to grip the edge of the table and crack it down the wooden seam. Wood wouldn't do much against wolves, but it would do enough. They lowered into predatory crouches, ready to spring the moment I did. I felt Zo's eyes on my back for the flash of a second before Nathan and Sean dragged her into the cellar. When I heard the door shut soundly, my feet left the ground.

In the same move, I kicked the door shut and drove the wooden spike into the chest of the vampire who betrayed me. I didn't recognize these wolves, they were probably his own private army. They outnumbered and outgunned me, but turning tail to brace myself was not the Fangtell way. As he went down, I charged them head on. It was beyond crazy, but I could think of two vampires who had gone up against a lycan unarmed and won. They didn't fight like the wolves at Belfry Prep, they fought like men. A few hung back while two, considerably larger and stronger than me, lurched out like attack dogs on command. As they swung, I slid, brushing the gravel with my fingers. The heat from their ranks was radiant; claws attempted to catch me as I rose. Immediately, I was climbing. I purposefully went for the weak branches as they doubled back for me. The mansion door burst open at the same moment I saw a shock of red in one of the upper windows. _Crack._ Show time.

I leapt free of the trunk and slammed my newly freed weapon of choice into the wolf's back below me. He swung high, I rolled low. It was like the years of combat training were rushing back without aid. A swipe, a dodge. Do not get hit. Once you get hit, they will attack as forcefully as they can. Blood makes wolves reckless, the same way it makes you starve. I vaulted backward on my hands, dodging the swipes as they came. My shoe struck it in the face, making me wish for a moment I had worn my steel-toed combat boots to this little party. I watched the beast's eyes go dark and his attacks increased tenfold. I waited until I could nearly feel the breath of the blade at the back of my skull, its slice through the air threatening to be as brutal as possible, to hit the ground and allow the blade to impale it. The wolf's eyes didn't falter, reaching up to grab it before I uncoiled myself and grasped the hilt. Wrenching it before freeing it, I watched the flicker of life end. It was not the first time and it would not be the last.

The ghost of a sound that was an arrow piercing the air slammed into the face of one of the waiting ranks. Silver tipped, they taught her well. Bram and Sean had joined me, holding weapons without defense. Should they need it, I distracted. I could handle more than my own. My ears tensed at the harsh and heavy sound of gunfire, bullets meant for hunting and taking down big prey. Charlie in the upper window opposite Rain. They came in waves and we opposite them. I had been our poison pawn, the boys my knights, and to no one's surprise, our bishops followed with Winchesters blazing. My blade refused to strike air, each strike ripping open fur and splashing blood onto my skin. Claws, too close for comfort, were my main avoidance. They were so well trained it shouldn't have been possible to duck away, but that was the beauty of vampirism in action- we were smaller and faster. My blade cut one of their throats, the aftermath of the decimated vein spraying my skin in liquid warmth. I was bathing in hellfire and loving absolutely every second of the pain I created. Using one of their shoulders for leverage as it went to its knees, I slammed my feet into the chest of one expecting an ambush and ducking the strike of another. In my roll away, I slammed my sword upward into the belly of another beast. Bram's hand grasped mine and tugged me from the fallen creature. Our hands, splashed in the rivers of red, remained intertwined.

"They're angry," he observed without glancing to me.

"Do you have a plan?"

He glanced them over, "I don't even know how many there are."

"Then just keep going."

Their metaphoric king was down, ours was not yet in play. But he was waiting. Our castle defended, our last-ditch effort was waiting. There was the beauty of vampire life, if you could handle your own problems, no one else had to interfere. Muscles aching and mind in a swirl of blood and fur and ruddy haze, the first struck was made with a special kind of brutality. Four of five claws slit from one side of my jaw across my face, the hit behind it enough to send me stumbling back into the small centerpiece fountain that Maggie had installed in her landscaping craze. The water around me turned scarlet very quickly. Blood ran down my neck freely, cooler than the liquid coating my skin. I righted my glasses, watching it come again and leaping to the side at the very last moment so it slammed headfirst into the stone. My blade flashed, reflecting the fading sun only momentarily before it separated the creature's head from its shoulders.

There was no time for communication. Vinnie and Tash were stationed by the house, keeping up their steady stream of ammunition much the way Charlie and Rain were themselves. The numbers were dwindling, that was a positive sign, and Sean had transitioned from two silver hunting knives to utilizing his fangs with them, preferring to tear his enemies apart thoroughly whether they had fur or not.

Rivers of blessedly cool water ran down the back of my soaked shirt and pants, sticking them to my skin. It felt like blessed relief. I sought my husband with my eyes in the moments while the slashes healed. They rushed him, seemingly collectively. I didn't have time to heal. I burst into motion once again, blurring until my muscles screamed for mercy. I leapt on the back of the hind wolf and stabbed blindly. Anywhere my blade could find was flesh to slice; we could hack our way to the middle to hold our own.

With a wild howl, the one I'd mounted slammed me back. My head cracked on a solid tree limb and for a moment, things went black. I dropped like a stone onto the damp earth, my blade still grasped with all my force. I didn't have the time to right myself. Roll, dodge-!

"No!" Bram shouted. For a flicker of a second as I felt the impact of claws, all I could think was _not again!_ I snapped my blade up and impaled the creature through the skull. It hadn't gotten too deep, that was a nice thought. I got back up nearly immediately after and found myself struck again. I tumbled backward. Be it the strike or the bleeding wounds, my head was spinning. Bram's arm engulfed me suddenly and he threw me with all his strength out of the fray. I landed on the grass none too gently, but with more safety near the house. He held his own while I healed. I planned on re-entering the brawl. My muscles tensed as I rose. The lovely, piercing pain in my gut meant it was healing, and I charged again. I swung; I didn't have the time to think. They were going to overwhelm them. They needed me.

Lightning cracked out of the sky. I hadn't even noticed the gathering clouds. Lightning and sudden, pelting downpour, striking my skin so hard I felt little bruises bloom in their wake.

"Fall back!" Sean shouted.

The moment Bram was free, I bolted with him. We dashed for the stairs and threw our bodies at their base. The piercing scent of ozone became overwhelming. He grasped my side and tugged me close against the opposite side, cradling me down in the dirt by the bushes. Our blades laid side by side beneath our bodies, his partially over mine. My hand snapped down to my stomach reflexively; the wounds were not still bleeding badly.

"Dad, stop the water!" Sean shouted. Vinnie and Natasha dashed inside and Bram threw our blades inside the door. I reached out and yanked the body of the staked man off to pitch into the rapidly flooding grass. Sean scrambled onto the stone, grabbing his father's arms as the scent built. Bram climbed up beside him, offering his hand to me. Wounds traced his arm; how was he bleeding so...

Oh. No, that was mine. I reached down and touched a new wound on my side, trying to recall when it had been formed. That was where the searing pain originated.

"Dad!" Sean shouted at the top of his lungs. Bram's eyes widened and immediately, I shoved him back. I grasped the step and attempted to pull myself up, but the lightning ripped out of the sky in several dozen bolts before I had the chance. It struck their ranks and the standing water.

The tingling lasted only a moment before it was replaced by jolting, searing pain. Against my will, I screamed. I tried to voice the agony, but it didn't seem to sound enough. My muscles clenched, refusing to thrash. Did I even have the strength in my body to combat both? Bram, my beautiful fool, didn't care for his own safety. He grabbed me, tensing immediately in agony, and pulled me out of the water with _his_ irrevocable strength. The pain didn't end there, but the intensity lowered. He cradled me while I clenched my hands around my wound, my teeth grit while every muscle twitched and seared as if I had been cooked from the inside out. I did not have the effort to make another sound. I watched them go down. I wept for the animals living on the forest floor. I wept for the trees forced to take in that kind of electric pain. Mostly, I wept for the pain coursing through my body without sign of slowing. A pair of running steps down the stairs alerted me to Charlie and Rain's approach. Somewhat raspy, Bram called out, "Get blood! Don't bother checking in first!"

Surely our bodies couldn't handle this, even with all the abuse they faced before. My eyes fluttered and I longed to clutch my head. Finally, the scent and the sound ceased, yet the pounding rain did not. "You ass!" Sean shouted at the top of his lungs, "You wiped out a forest and you nearly wiped out Gory!"

_Thanks for the vote of confidence._

"No, I did not. I can concentrate the currents enough. Believe me, my dear, the agony they were in was exponentially more than your own."

Once my eyes closed, I didn't have the energy to lift them again. _What about the bunnies? Was that just a little pinch to them?_ My fingers twitched. It sent a surge of pain through my body. The rapidly cooling air was replaced with that already cold. Bram managed to get in a few feet before sitting down on the edge of the carpet with my body in his arms. Our breath came raw and ragged, exhausted in the wake of battle. "Sean..." he panted, "You have to make sure they get blood in her."

I could hear the surprise in my brother-in-law's voice while the world around me became even hazier. I didn't think that was possible while I was already half out.

His hold around me relaxed. They must've been terrified too, because only a dash of terror crossed my mind before my overworked brain shut down entirely.


	67. Chapter Sixty-Seven

_Chapter Sixty-Seven_

The first thing to register in my mind was an obscene amount of screaming going on between someone with a very loud voice and a woman. I slid my hands beneath my pillow to press it to my ears, but that didn't even drown out the sound.

"What the hell are you thinking?! They were that badly hurt, they need doctors!"

"Our kind have never needed doctors-" Oh. Great. He was the last person to say what someone did and didn't need.

"Get out of my way before I move you myself." The territorial snarl in Laura's voice filled me with deep, internalized pride. I had certainly done something right with her over the years. I stretched, yawned and rolled on my stomach. Beside me, Bram nudged me, "Must you hog the bed all the time?"

I smirked into my pillow while reaching for my glasses. Slowly, things came back to me just as my lower back ached in protest to movement. The door was thrown open as I climbed out of bed, Draculaura rushing over to me with her little eyes wide. I swatted her hands away and ruffled her hair, "Sweetheart, it's about time you learned how not to over-parent. I have to pee, this is not a problem you can solve by any way but _getting out of_ my way." Clawd smirked from the door frame, his fuzzy bulk taking up most of the entryway. I saluted to him in passing. No sooner had I shut the door, it seemed, before I heard Bram cussing a blue streak.

Someone had the sense to change my clothes, I noticed. I peeled up my shirt to examine my side. It must've been Nathan; I was clean and the bandage job didn't look professional. I reached up to touch my hair and found it blissfully void of pond scum. Besides my lower back, which as I turned I noticed was very bruised and still rather blueish-purple, I felt fine. Those boys were better doctors than they thought.

I relieved myself quickly and returned to the bedroom to find Clawd checking over Bram while he protested. The sight was more adorable than I would've liked to admit, but like a young King Arthur, he endured it for my sake. There was some light bruising on his face and a few wounds that had probably been worse when they were initially treated, but it seemed that we were both in better shape than our bestial counterparts. I flashed him a supportive smile and linked my arm around Laura's shoulders to lead her from the room.  
"You should really stop worrying, you know. It's bad for the baby."

"Do you ever think of yourself?" she muttered.

"All the time. You just seem to put me on the saintly pedestal that I don't deserve." The moment my feet touched the lower floor, Zofie tore out of the den and flung her arms around my waist. I scooped her up and squeezed her, pressing her tiny face into my throat. "My tiny, beautiful little treasure," I cooed into her hair, pressing soft kisses to the golden strands that brushed like silk across my skin in draping over her shoulders. She wept silent tears of relief into the crook of my neck. I traced her face softly with my fingertips, caressing back the locks of gold that felt adhered to me. She was so tiny, nestled in my arms the way she was, but for someone so small she was incredibly strong. "Thank you for protecting them."

Her eyes lifted to meet mine in shock. I knew her, how wouldn't I know she protected them? Her gaze was dark and lovely, she must've been upset the whole time. Like the princess she was, I carried her into the den and curled up on the sofa with her in my arms. The absence of my family noted, I didn't worry for them. I didn't feel the need to worry anymore. With Zo pressed tightly to me, the only thing I cared for was solitude, something that I don't think Laura quite grasped the concept of. She followed me, her flowing pink dress sweeping just above her knees.  
"I don't think I'll ever understand you two. You're a pair of cherubs in vampire bodies."

Her lower lip quivered as she reached out to me, lacing her fingers with my own. "My father got a message when the attack was already underway. They were going to kill you."

"I know. There's no sense in crying over spilled milk, my love. If they were going to kill me, they would've killed me."

"They wanted to before," she whispered. "The dark spells had nothing to do with your family, it was them. They wanted us to think it was coming after my father, but it would've come for you."

I nodded and pressed my lips to the back of her hand.

"You're all I have in this world sometimes, you know that? And for a second, I thought...if they're already attacking, then she's already gone, and I just couldn't handle that. I was praying, and begging God to please let you be alright...because I love you so much, Gory. You're my family, not just my friend. And I don't care how many people hate us as long as we have each other to make it feel like no one does."

"No one hates you, _cara mia,_" I whispered. "You're the golden princess of all the world. You have everything."

She shook her head, letting her tears roll freely down her face and join my daughter's on my skin. "You're happy."  
My poor love. My poor, delicate Draculaura. Afraid to be married, afraid to befriend another person, afraid to have children, afraid to move away from school. She was afraid to change, knowing that all change led to an end. There was no such thing as a happy ending, only an ending. Perhaps in another world, ours had come today. I brought her around to sit with me, holding Zo to me while I wrapped myself around my best friend in equal adoration. I brushed my fingers through her silky, ebony hair and allowed her head to nudge my glasses askew. "Happiness is an illusion, my love. But if there is something very close to it...let's label it true happiness...then that is what I am."

True happiness was not a perpetual state of love struck bliss, nor was it the constant state of financial stability and acquisition at a whim. My true happiness was not a perfect child, a perfect family, or a never-ending stream of friends. I fought with my better half, I worried about our finances and tried to give our family the ability to function away from his family's funds. Zofie was a spoiled, mischievous little monster and I loved her to death the way she was. Our family endured constant fighting and half of them weren't even our blood, and to speak of, I had very few people I would consider my friends. The highlight of my afternoon was beating Jeopardy contestants at their own game while I sat at my computer and attempted to put my thoughts to paper in a way that other people could find thought-provoking themselves. Yes, I may have fit into the stereotype of the mansion home, the gorgeous husband, the freedom and the cars, potentially the two point five kids even though the one and the point five weren't even mine, but my happiness had little to do with my house, my freedom, my car or Bram's looks (though I would admit up and down that they were definitely the icing on the cake of my perfect man).

My fingers brushed through Laura's hair slowly. "Music and dissonance need each other, my darling. If you had lost me, I wouldn't have gone far. You would've become Zofie's guardian, and there's no point in pretending one of us could've been resurrected as your future child."

She looked at me, "There is no way in hell I would raise you and you know it. I babysit you enough as it is."

I couldn't help but smile. Lifting Zo, I shifted away and nestled into the soft cushions. "What did your father think of all this?"

"There won't be a council," she replied. "Not anymore. We might attempt to do things more diplomatically...with my father remaining the once and future totalitarian dynastic monarch."

"Absolute monarch," I replied.

She shot me a look. "You know, if I didn't love you so much, I would smack you every time you corrected me."

"It's my nature."  
She still gave me a look. I couldn't help but smile in reply. The boys' feet padded down the stairs, drawing Zo's attention. I released her, following her with my eyes as she ran past us to embrace her father as soon as his feet hit the floor. "I'm sorry," Laura murmured.

I rolled my eyes. "You shouldn't be. The only apologies you'll need to deliver will be the one to Clawd when you break his hand over that one." My eyes flickered down to her flat stomach and down to her face, making her blush. "Take it from someone who's done it, it's not a walk in the park, princess."

"Shut up, I plan on being drugged heavily."

I burst out laughing. "Please, you're giving birth to a half-breed. There won't be enough morphine in all of Oregon to save you."

Most of her face went pale, but her cheeks went very vividly pink. I slipped my arms around her and gave her a tender squeeze. "You'll be fine." This time, it didn't feel like blind faith when I thought we'd all be fine.

_A/N- Well you guys, it's that time of story again. I know I said this one had potential to be longer, but I don't want to push it to the maximum of its potential and write it too far, so tomorrow will probably be the conclusion. Keep in mind, that would put Saturday as the first chapter of my still-title-debatable sequel/spin-off thing to RW. So check back and DFTBA._


	68. Chapter Sixty-Eight

_Chapter Sixty-Eight_

_Five Months Later_

"Aah! It's snowing!" Laura shouted as she ducked inside the front door. The little shit grinned, though, flashing her pearly white fangs and wrapping her arms around me. I laughed and tugged the brim of her pink pageboy cap, freeing her static-frizzed hair from beneath it. She yelped, clapping her hat to her head and immediately going to work on the long, pink scarf double-wrapped around her neck. Her little white gloves almost matched her skin and her peacoat was open over the full curve of her stomach in a canary yellow sweater depicting white poinsettia flowers. Her husband didn't look quite as keen on an ugly sweater gathering as his wife. Clawd ducked in and shut the door, bending down to give me a gentle hug. "Not staying off your feet, I see."

I stuck my tongue out at him, "I'm the woman of the house, do you really think I have time for that?"

"You ought to take better care of yourself, Lady Devein," he teased. "I'm sure the baby's enjoying all the blood, but you need some for yourself."

Bram's arm wound gently around my waist, his hand pressing to the little bump of my developing belly. "I promise I'm taking good care of her, Clawd. She's just stubborn." He pressed a kiss to the back of my head, met with my amused teasing. "You didn't seem to mind the tenacity when we were making him."

"Oh boy," the werewolf muttered in reply. He helped his mate out of her coat and wrapped his arm adoringly around her body, guiding her into the den. I turned to face my husband momentarily, stealing another soft kiss while he rubbed my stomach like a good luck charm. "You should be sitting down, you know. If Zo was any inclination, the kid likes to eat anyway."

I cupped his face, tracing my thumb slowly over his jaw. "Think you can handle it?"

"Aah, another one!" Nathan called in a joking falsetto. Our children were instantly amused. His arm slid around me, fingers slipping into the pocket on my opposite hip as we wandered in after them. Natasha and Aleksi would join us tomorrow for the actual Christmas celebration when Sean, Nathan and Kiera had made it to Ireland to be with our extended family. Our entrance had apparently interrupted something, because Charlie booted Rain and himself from the chair for me while she was still speaking.

"You'll tell them we'll video call, won't ya?" she asked Sean.

"Of course," he replied. I reached out to ruffle Charlie's hair, replacing him in the warm, soft seat. Val and Cupid had taken up the opposite cushion, Laura in the other chair with her husband standing beside her much as mine perched on the arm of mine. I rubbed his knee the way he rubbed my stomach, drawing a small smile to his lips. Kiera, ever fascinated with everything to do with us, put her hands shyly up to her mouth.

"Kiera," Bram addressed her before our guests, "Tell them how old you are now."

Sheepishly, the little half breed held up four fingers. Laura gasped with a bit too much enthusiasm, "You're that many?! I feel so old!"

"She's not the reason you should feel old, cradle robber," I teased. Her eyes flicked back to me and she stuck her tongue out. Nathan gave his daughter an enthusiastic squeeze, clearly delighted with how much her simplistic tasks were worthy of our joy. I didn't have the heart to tell him just how advanced Zo had been at her age.

"Oh, Jonas sent his well-wishes," Clawd finally contributed to the conversation. "I saw him and his terrible twosome at the store the other day. Lucy's doing good, Kale's getting big."

"How's your father?" Bram asked the both of them. I gave his knee a tender squeeze. Clawd rolled his eyes as if to point out the pack ran quite like a matriarchy, but he didn't correct the mistake. He settled in beside Laura on the floor, tall enough to still give her room to rub his fuzzy jaw. "Doing well, actually. With the council done for, he's not under as much stress. He promises that he's keeping your family in mind."

"We don't need him to," I replied. "Abolishing the council was enough for us."

"Still, I think he wants to make you knights or something. If you guys hadn't stood up to them, they might've gotten up the nerve to go against him. Who knows what could've happened." I got the nagging suspicion that her pointed remarks were more of a thanks for stopping more bloodshed than a thanks for her father's well-being. Everyone smiled; we all knew exactly what would've happened, but for her sake, we didn't say a word.

"Do you know what you're having yet?" Cupid asked them.

Laura shook her head, allowing her husband to speak that time. "We're..._she's_ trying to be surprised."

"Ooh, you're not going to want to do that," I replied. "If we had been surprised last time, we might've planned for a boy."

"You have intuition about these things," Sean pointed out. "You called her a girl and you're calling this one a boy, watch it be a boy."

Speaking of my tiny devil, she crawled up onto the crook of the chair beside me with her little cocoa cup in hand. Our friends quieted upon seeing her, watching her every little move as she turned to look at my stomach and took one of her warm hands to press to the little bump. I held it there for her, tracing my thumb against her knuckles. "You know, pretty soon he's going to be able to touch you back."

She smiled, "I like him."

Zo seemed unspeakably more mature since Aleksi had left. She doted on Kiera while they commuted from the far coast here every month or so, she cared for her frogs like a champion and even helped with Sabbath and Sammy. Of course, the conception of her little sibling a little more than four months ago had been quite the awakening for her anyway. Bram looked at us worshipfully and kissed the top of my head before leaning over to kiss hers. Charlie and Rainy were closest to us, their backs to the fireplace and smiling as they cuddled. Maggie would've been thrilled to be here, and ever since the little electrocution incident, her husband had been twenty times less rough toward everyone.

"I don't know about anyone else," Cupid murmured melodically, "but I want to go play in the snow."

"Too bad there isn't hardly any yet," Laura murmured. "When it starts really sticking, we're going to build a baby snowman."

"Did you at least choose names yet?" I replied.

"I'll tell you mine of you tell me yours."

With a small smile turning up my lips, I glanced to Bram with a jokingly puzzled expression. He knew I loved it when he spoke the name we'd chosen. Like Zo's, it always sounded more musical coming from his lips. Infinitely more melodic, at least to me. He would argue with me all night if he could that it was just the opposite, but that was love- at least, our brand of it.

"Damian Tristan Devein," he said with the regal pride of an expectant king. His eyes flickered down to me, "I was going to attempt to ask her for Desmond, but I do love the way it sounds."

"You gave your kid the same initials as Daredevil," Clawd pointed out.

"Unintentional nerd," I replied.

Sean scoffed. We both shot him a look. Nathan glanced past his fiancee to us with increasing curiosity evident in his expression. "What's Zofie's middle name?"

"Cosmina," I replied. "Because she's always been the order in our universe."

My little girl's cheeks flushed pink, immediately attracting the sounds of adoration accompanying their gazes. She looked down at her cocoa with a warm smile; she loved my stories, especially when I told them about her. My fingers traced through her soft, golden hair, tucking it behind her elvish ears. "Your first name, Zofie, means wisdom. Your middle name, Cosmina, means order, or universe. We thought it was fitting because you very quickly became the whole universe to us, but you also put wisdom and order into us." Her eyes lifted, so warm in their gemstone color that they seemed almost like molten garnet. I kissed her forehead before continuing. "There was a reason we left school after you were born. There were experiences to be had that didn't need to be childish anymore. No one ever gets to embrace their childhood to the fullest extent, and we had done more than enough. You, my darling, were the motivation behind college and jobs and trying to be better people."

She got very sheepish and looked down to my belly, speaking directly to it, "See, I did everything."

"You were the first dose of limitless love that we had for another being besides each other," Bram continued, scooping her up from beside me to seat her on his legs, "Your brother will increase our count of precious things by one more."

"Yeah, but he can't say he did what I did," she pointed out, grinning at me like the little Cheshire cat she thought she was.

"Ah, but Damian is a name of nobility. It's a gentleman's name, meaning tame or subdue. The perfect counterpart for a sister like you," Bram murmured to her, giving her a squeeze. She laughed, but I could tell she was intending to get Damian to give her a run for her money. I met Laura's eyes across the room and smiled, reminding her silently to hold to her promise. She raised her hands and let them fall with a sigh. "Well, I wanted Clawd to name him if he was a boy, but I wanted him to have my father's name somewhere in his name. If she's a girl, then Contessa. It means Countess. Contessa Ambrogia."

"The undying countess," I murmured. "Good god, you're a Coppola film in action."

She blushed, her mate's laughter only seeming to make her a bit more pink. He rose, glancing to everyone and taking note of what they had. "Bram? Wanna give me a hand?"

Zo tucked in his side, he rose to do just that. Pausing before the door, he looked at me as if to tell me silently to remain where I was. I shrugged, making no promises.

"I don't want to sound rude," Valentine began. I instantly feared he had something incredibly stupid to say until he met Laura's eyes and attempted to tread very obviously delicately. "You look a little big for one baby."

"You think she has twins?" Cupid gasped, instantly delighted.

Draculaura's eyes flew open, "What? No, no that's not...no, it's just one...big...well fed baby...I think?"

"What did they say the last time you went to the doctor?" Cupid asked, scooting to the edge of her seat. Laura's eyes flickered to me, "I didn't want them to tell me much besides the health-"

Nathan let out a sound that voiced all the exasperation in the room and then some. "Well honey, you better pick out a few more names, because you've probably got two buns in your oven."

I pressed my lips together, but my shoulders began shaking silently and I couldn't withhold my laughter any longer. They glanced to me, Rainy's hand flashing to mine to get me calm again. I couldn't stop laughing.  
"What?" Laura asked in an embarrassed, disgruntled tone.

"When it first happened, I bet Bram thirty bucks there would be multiples! Now he owes me that bet back!"

"Aren't werewolves kind of notorious for that?" Nathan stage-whispered to Sean.

Valentine leaned back, his arm around Chariclo, "Thank god I don't have to worry about being the father."

"First time in your life," I replied.

I felt the way I had on my first Christmas at Belfry Prep. Christmases were done there according to dorm, celebrated as others wished, and outside of a circle of friends no one needed to present gifts to one another. It had been more like living in an apartment complex than going to school, and I remembered vividly that I had wanted nothing more than Sabby to come live with me. Bram had gotten me one of those interactive plush dolls that kids played with. It wasn't Sabby, but it didn't need to be tended to while I was away. We ran out in the heavy Maine snow at eleven Christmas Eve and threw snow at each other and attempted to build things that kept being decimated by the wind until one, when freezing and wind-scorched, we'd dashed inside to warm up again. I glanced over to Charlie. He was smiling lightly as if he were remembering the moment too. Vinnie's jacket left in our flat, draped over one of the chairs while we dashed out. We thought he was nuts, even if it was genuine leather, but I could see it now. That jacket had been the first of his precious objects, Tash the second and Aleksi the third. So much had occurred between Bram and I that I couldn't quite put my finger on what the first precious object had been. My eyes lifted, and in the back of my mind, I tried to determine what might've been the first precious thing between every couple I saw.  
Cupid and Val had no doubt achieved their precious moment in bed with each other; Val had that kind of a habit with romance. I could put money on Sean and Nathan's being something sweet, and Draculaura's had likely been Clawd or one of his siblings. Precious things, while in love were innumerable, were also the things that made life divine. My precious objects had not diminished with my parents' deaths or the metaphorical dethroning afterward. I leaned back in the seat and watched them. My brother and his ex, finally treating each other like people and not the one that got away. My brother and his fiancee, for once at peace with their predicament because it didn't have to be eternal. And with sweeping grace, my better half and our most precious treasure re-entered the room. He set down warm mugs of red-tinted cocoa and flashed me a muted smile, "You need to keep your strength up. Tomorrow's going to be a nightmare."

"The Nightmare Before Christmas," Zofie muttered, "Miss Frankie is totally Sally."

Clawd burst into laughter across the room, hearing her while no one else was paying attention. I pressed my lips to her temple and pressed them softly to her father's cheek, "Sure. It's not like Halloween is quite escapable in this town anyway."

He gave me the kind of smirk that told me he knew coming here would be a good idea. I rolled my eyes and rested my hand on his knee once more, my eyes flickering to the clock on the wall. Five months, give or take a few weeks, and some hours to go. _At least their birthdays will both be in spring._

_The End_


End file.
